Not all Flowers Bloom
by NotSoPrimandProper
Summary: Dahlia Mellark has never seen eye to eye with her mother. An essay contest win however, forces the two together. Will their differences keep them from working together for their survival? Find out in this new fan-fic!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Everyone says I am just like my mother. Little do they know, that besides looking like her, we have nothing in common. In fact, I am so much more like my father. I'm compassionate, social and outgoing like my dad. We have similar interests in baking and painting. I even have his eyes. I'm not saying that my mother does not possess these qualities… no wait. That is exactly what I am saying. Which is why I am irritated when people insist that I am still so much like my mother.

Before I go further, I should explain why this is important. I mean, people usually take after their parents; that's kind of how genetics works. But when you're a Mallerk, genetics is like a name tag that reads; "Hello my name is…" My full name is Dahlia Rue Mallerk, daughter of Peeta Mallerk aka Hunger games victor and rebellion leader aka the former mayor of district 12 aka the boy with the bread. My mother is Katniss Mallerk aka Katniss Everdeen aka Hunger games victor aka the Mockingjay. When you're parents are the famed star-crossed lovers who led a rebellion and changed the history of Panem, people tend to notice who you resemble. My little brother, Jonathan takes after my dad. In looks anyway. He seems to be a better combination of my parents. It doesn't matter to him who people say he resembles; he just gives the same generic nod to either.

Having famous parents was never a problem until this year when I entered high school. I'm not the type who shrinks away from attention and people, but I certainly did not want the stares and whispers I get when walking down the hallway either. I even hear them from classmates and friends I grew up with. I am not sure what changed over the summer, but once we started high school, many stayed clear. As if that was not enough, Queen Jane and the rest of her snobby friends have made it their senior year mission to make my freshman year a living hell. This means teasing me, and whoever has the misfortune to be near me at the time. After that high level of social assault my friendship pool has dwindled down to a few acquaintances and my best friend Elle.

Elle and I have been best friends since we were 7, when her family moved from district 2 to 12. They decided they wanted to raise their kids in a quiet, simple place. Her father, Gale Hawthorne was a General and rebellion leader before moving back here. He was also an old friend of my mom. I don't know the whole story. I just know that till this day our parents have found an excuse to avoid each other in intimate affairs. They still try to remain cordial however, for the sake of our friendship and Elle's older brother Asher, who works at the bakery with dad.

Asher Hawthorne. Now he is a mystery all his own. Asher is one of the reasons Elle and I have not hit social ruins. Asher is the typical popular guy in school, cute, good at everything and had the mandatory popular girlfriend, Jane. When Asher walked in on one of Jane's lunch tirades against Elle and I he went beat up a guy and publicly dumped her in the middle of the cafeteria. Everyone was surprised since he is normally very even tempered, but no one was more surprised then me. Asher does not acknowledge Elle or me during school. He occasionally yells her full name, Hazelle in the hallway to tick her off. If he does acknowledge me, he calls me Hazelle's friend. I don't know what changed but I guess he felt obligated to stand up for his sister and her friend. Since then it has been quietly assumed that messing with us means messing with Asher. But, enough about everyone else. This tirade is supposed to be about my mother.

There are other qualities that I do not share with my mother, such as a interest in healing. My grandmother is a healer and has always been supportive of my dream to become a doctor. She lets me shadow her in the clinic when we go to visit her. My father also encourages me and never forgets to say how proud he is of my academic achievement. When I was younger, he would make copies of my straight A report cards and put them on the cooler in the house and in the bakery. Yet despite all of their encouragement and pride, both have strongly suggested I not tell my mother of my career plans. This is a feat I have accomplished until now. What changed? Well each year, our school has a contest called "What would you have done to change the rebellion?" Entry is optional, but winners get to go to the capitol and present their ideas to leaders in their field of interest. Being the child of rebellion leaders, everyone assumed I would make some fantastic battle strategy. However I chose the topic of medical triage. It definitely raised some eyebrows for both its creativity and variance from my family's assumed area of expertise.

Now I am sitting with a piece of paper exclaiming congratulations at the top, while my father drones on about how I should ease my mother into the idea of me going to the capitol and my interest in healing. The more he talks, the more I get annoyed that I have to care about my mother's feelings towards what I want to do with my life. By the time I hear her open the door, I have made up my mind about how I want to break the news. She calls up the stairs to my brother Jonathan to move his toys blocking the door. Then she continues to the kitchen where we wait for her. As she enters, she gives a smile only saved for my father. She gives me a quick peck on the cheek and leans in to give my father a quick kiss on the lips. At the last moment he pulls her down into him and they end up kissing until I clear my throat to remind them that I am still there. They quickly pull apart, slightly embarrassed at getting carried away. I can only shake my head at my parents PDA. Sometimes it's cute to see they still love each other. Other times like now I find it annoying…and a little gross.

I assume dad is going to give her a few compliments or promise to make her favorite desert before we talk. Instead he jumps right in.

"Katniss, sweetheart. Dahlia has got some really good news for you." My mother raises her eyebrows and looks to me for answers to this statement. 'Gee thanks Dad.' I think as the attention switches to me. I nod in agreement and feign being timid by quickly looking down and playing with my paper. I am still careful to keep the bold congratulations visible for her to see. Predictably she gets a little closer and asks;

"I see the fancy letter of congratulations. What's it for?" I fiddle around a little more before finally answering.

"There is this school wide competition, that I applied for and was chosen as a winner in my category." She's trying to wait patiently for me to finish but she has a look that says get to the point. "Well anyway winning is a very prestigious accomplishment and I was the only freshman to win it this year. In fact I am the first in the last 5 years." Instead of being impressed like I had hoped, suspicion begins to cloud her features. She asks me, in her interrogation voice.

"How did you win this competition?" Once the interrogation voice comes on, I know it's way more frustrating for me to avoid questions then for her to ask them. I decide to change tactics; Quick and dirty.

"I won it for writing about what I would have done to change the rebellion." As I see my mother about to protest. I make sure she knows the twist. "I think what stood out in my essay is that I didn't choose a fancy battle strategy like most of the kids." Her mouth closed and she was once again curious. I reminded myself of my quick and dirty strategy before I let the words pour out. "I wrote it on medical triage. It's a subject that I have been interested in for a long time. I want to be a doctor and I know that getting to present in front of the leaders in medicine is a great way to make myself stand out." She was forming the words no before she realized that she technically had nothing to disapprove yet.

"Where would this presentation take place?" She asked. I begrudgingly answered.

"The capitol. It's a whole trip to get to see it." Before I finished mom was already shaking her head.

"No Dahlia. No you are not going to the capitol. It's still dangerous. Maybe when you're older." I felt tears of frustration starting to well up as my mother shot down my request. Dad quickly spoke up for me.

"Come on Katniss. She has been a stellar student. Top in her class every year and this could help her reach her dream." She gives an empty laugh while giving dad a spiteful look.

"Why am I not surprised you knew about her wanting to be a doctor and taking this trip to the capitol way before you thought to tell me." Perhaps it was her attacking dad, or the disdainful way she said doctor that pushed me to shout back at her. Whatever it was, the calm argument quickly escalated into a shouting match. I yelled over my mother's shouts to reply;

"I told him because he actually cares about me being happy and he is proud of the fact I am working hard to pursue my dream. Grandma is proud of me too and she actually helps me with my skills. She even goes over the healing plants in the book with me. You know the one you were supposed to pass down to me and John but hide in the back of the closet." I could see the frustration in mom's face as her interjections did nothing to quell my tirade.

"Dahlia Rue! You will lower your voice when you talk to me. I said no!" I no longer cared about getting in trouble or being grounded. I just wanted say in my life for once. I spat back.

"I don't need your permission you know. I only need one parent to sign my slip." Finally she pounds her fists down on the table and yells;

"Damn it Prim. I said you are not going!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was only a few seconds of silence following mom's mistaken outburst, but it seemed to stretch into minutes as the silence hung in the air. I may like to push my mom's buttons, but I know Aunt Prim, my mom's sister is an untouchable subject. My parents and even gram don't talk about her much. All I know is, thinking of her makes gram sad to the point of despondence. I know that my mom saw her die and that she often screams out for her during her night terrors. Every May 28th, on Aunt Prim's birthday, my mother takes primroses from the garden and spends the day in the woods alone. I half expect mom to turn on her heels and head for the woods now, but Dad finally finds his words to bring her back to reality.

"Dahlia, please go to your room. Your mother and I have to talk matters over." I immediately forget my mom's outburst and become annoyed that I am not able to be apart of a discussion that directly affects me. I am about to respond when dad repeats firmly; "Dahlia. Now."

Dad never really raises his voice at my brother and me, but his commands have a level of authority that make you obey them. I stomp out of the room, showing my disapproval for being asked to leave. I make it halfway down the hallway before deciding to turn around and eavesdrop. It is one of my favorite past times and a necessity if I want to know anything that is going on in this house. My parents say they're just trying to protect us, but I think they're still treating us like babies.

I sneak back down the hallway, as if performing a well-rehearsed dance. I avoid making noise as I slide, skip and lightly toe over the creaky floorboards and rest in the nook beside the kitchen door entrance. I hear my mother's voice, no longer a yell but still holding onto its stubborn tone. My father finally cuts her off with a question.

"Katniss, Real or not real?" My mother gives a snort in response. I even have to roll my eyes at dad asking mom to play his stupid game. He'll ask her sometimes when watching the news, reading or joking around. John and I have concluded that it's a long running inside joke between our parents. If included or asked the question, we simply act amused as if we are also apart of the joke.

"Come on. Real or not real?" Dad asks her again. With a sigh she finally concedes.

"Fine." I hear shuffling and a chair scraping the floor. A move indicating that my mother has probably sat down to face my father. He begins.

"There has not been another Hunger Game since our quarter quell. Real or not real." Mom responds immediately.

"Real." Dad continues.

"We helped lead the rebellion and defeat the capitol. Real or not real?"

"Real." My mother once again replies in the affirmative.

"President Snow and Coin are dead and Paylor is now president."

"Real." She replies immediately again.

"We have helped to rebuild District 12 into a better place then when we grew up."

She laughs a little before responding. "Real, but that was mostly you Mr. Mayor." "Former mayor." Dad reminds her. Then he pauses before asking. "Lastly, our children are safe. Real or not real?" A chair shifting, pacing footsteps and a long sigh hint at the struggle mom is having with this last one. Finally mom responds.

"Do you remember what happened when you were mayor?" Dad sighs but my ears perk up at the idea of hearing some new information.

"Katniss that was three years ago. I stepped down as mayor and we caught the man responsible."

"But he was in our house Peeta! I never even saw him take that picture. He made x's through the children's faces." Mom's voice had taken on a strained quality as she remembered back.

"No one is coming after us. We own a bakery now. You teach peacekeeper trainees nature survival skills. We are no longer the faces of the rebellion, we're just a boring family with every day lives. We're safe. Our children are safe. Real or not real?" Finally mom agrees.

"Real." I smile knowing I just received permission to go to the capital.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Armed with the knowledge I am now going to the capitol, I decide to walk around a bit before dinner. I quietly sneak from my eavesdropping station and tip toe back to my room to quickly change into my forest friendly outfit. Right as I am about to leave, I remember that I can grab a few plants for a remedy that I have been working on. It is a twist to a family recipe, which quickly reverses the effects of any sleep syrp or morphling. When Grams first showed me how to make it I added in too much bayberry leaf. The result was the patient woke up and ran out of the hospital. It was particularly amazing because prior to the hospital, his family reported that he could barely walk around his house. The remedy is apart of my medical evacuation strategy. Instead of having to use extra manpower to move unconscious patients, wake them up and stimulate them enough to move themselves. This will lessen the burden on medical staff.

I quickly jot down my list, fold it up and stick it into my coat pocket before practically bounding down the stairs and out of the house; then quickly jog through the meadow to get to the woods.

Once there, I feel immediately calmed by my tranquil surroundings. I take off toward a hidden garden whistling a few notes along the way. The mockingjays take up the notes and I begin to harmonize with them. When I arrive at the garden, I finally take a moment to rest & reflect on a smoothed down boulder lying at the edge of the open space.

I share the woods with my mother, brother and countless others who wander into it, but can't help feeling personal ownership to this spot. It's a clear open space with, plants our wild life does not eat so they often steer clear. No wildlife also means no hunters will trample through the delicate flowers and plants growing there. The field is located too far in for the average hiker/explorer, so my field remains untouched by anyone else but me. I tried to show it to my mom and brother once, but with no possibility of hunting, the area held little appeal for them. Unlike my mother or brother, I don't need to shoot something to enjoy nature's bounty.

I must clarify one thing. I can hunt. I can also shoot a bow and arrow. It's just that I choose not to. My mother found that out the hard way when she tried to take me hunting. At the time I thought my mother could do no wrong. I copied her every move, word and outfit. Each time we walked through the woods was a new adventure. She taught me how to whistle to the birds, what berries are good to eat and taught me how to swim. When she showed me how to use a bow and arrow, it was clear that I was a natural. At 6 I could hit a target 100 feet away. Pretty impressive if I do say so myself…oh wait. I just did. The day came when she wanted to teach me how to use these skills to hunt. She decided to start small with a squirrel or a rabbit, but instead of shooting it, I would attempt to pet them. I had broken free of my mom to follow a bunny and almost got trampled by a deer. My mother took the deer out inches before it reached me. After that, I cried not for myself, but because my mom killed the deer. She carried me out of the forest and into the house, trying to console me. When I saw dad I quickly pulled away from her and ran to him. I tried to explain what happened but I couldn't get out a clear story through my tears. He finally looked to my mom for answers. She just shook her head.

"This one may be good in nature but she is no hunter." Finally I was able to find my voice.

"She killed him. Mommy killed the little deer." I pointed a tiny chubby finger at her accusingly. He quickly tried to smooth things over.

"I'm sure mommy didn't mean to kill the deer." But I just shook my tiny head in denial. Mom came over and tried to console me again.

"Dahl baby, mommy had to stop the deer. It would have stepped on you." I buried my head in dad's chest and refused to look at her again.

When he had finally gotten me settled enough to eat dinner. Uncle Haymitch came in, asking loudly about deer meat. It set me off into sobs again. My mother and I have not gone into the woods together since that day.

I finally, hop off the boulder and pick the roots and plants from my list. Then quickly tuck them into a jacket pocket. Tomorrow I will go into town to see about the rest of the ingredients. Taking a quick look at the sun, I figure it's almost time for dinner and decide to head back home. I get halfway through the forest, when I hear whimpering. It definitely sounds like an animal but I can't place the type. I follow the sounds to a small wooded area. I only see the creatures face, but what I do see puzzles me. What I am looking at looks like a small wolf, but it's not a wolf cub. I hesitate at first, thinking it's some kind of mutant, but then remember Elle talking about them. It's a dog.

We don't have a lot of pets here in district 12. If they do not serve a purpose, then most think them useless and expensive. Every time I bring home a wounded animal, my mother threatens to shoot it. So I usually hide it in my room till its better and then release it into the woods. John, who is the hunter of the two of us, likes to make a mark or put something on them, so he does not shoot them when, hunting. Sometimes he even helps me sneak them into the house and take care of them.

I walk closer to get a better look and realize that he's been caught in one of my little brother's snares. A quick exam of his leg shows there is no damage or broken bones. I quickly work the knot to release him from the snare. Once released the dog licks all over me in thanks. I laugh trying to push him away but he continues to lick, sniff and wag his tail. I'm starting to understand the allure of having a dog as a pet; they're cute and really affectionate. Without any scratches, I expect it to bound back into the forest but as I stand up it looks at me expectantly. I just shake my head.

"Don't look at me like that. You can't go home with me. Shoo." I try to push it away but it comes back to snuggle at my leg. I give up and pet its thick brown coat. "How am I going to sneak you into my room." We start off walking towards my house when my foot gets caught on something. I tried to tug it up and realize a moment too late it's a trap. The rope drags me sideways causing me to hit the ground before hauling me up the side of a tree. The wind gets knocked out of me and I hang in the air gasping for breath. Thankfully, my new friend starts to bark. I try to make quick work of untying the snare but I began to realize how intricate it is. This is not my brother's handiwork. I quiet the dog as I start to fear who might come to retrieve their prize. They may not be surprised to see a human in their trap. Perhaps that's what they were looking for all along. When the dog quiets down, I hear footsteps. Purposeful and heavy steps heading right towards us. I take a look around and see what I have to work with. I realize, aside from the tree branch the trap is hanging from, I'm out of options. I reach through the top of the trap and start to climb up the rope. The sheer effort of only being able to use my upper body is exhausting, but adrenaline has kicked in to help me. I get to the branch and wrap my arms around the tree. I try to swing my legs up but they are completely tangled. I need my hands to untangle my feet but know if I let go I'll be back to square one. As the footsteps get closer, I make a split decision to let go of one arm and yank my feet out. I immediately regret the decision after letting go. My arm starts to shake from the effort of supporting my weight and my grasp starts to slip.

'Please, please, please.' I plead to any being above for help. The tree brush rustles as the mystery hunter enters the clearing. As the last ounce of strength I have gives out, my hand slips and I feel myself falling. Suddenly the snare jerks back and I end hanging upside down; my face now inches away from the blade of a knife.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

My eyes slowly take in the face of the knife's owner. They stop at a pair of gray eyes. The gray seam eyes staring back at me are familiar but not that of my brother or mother. As he took in my predicament the first thing he did was laugh. I finally had the presence of mind to yell at him.

"Asher! It's not funny. Stop pointing that stupid knife and get me down from here." He tried to straighten his face, but he couldn't keep the amusement out of his eyes.

"You should ask me politely." He tucks the knife into his pants, walks over to the side of the tree and is about to undo a knot when he looks back at me expectantly. I roll my eyes and reply through gritted teeth.

"Asher can you PLEEEAASEE get me down from here?"

He laughs again and undoes the knot, which releases the snare from the tree. I unceremoniously fall to the ground with a thud. The dog, happy to see me back comes closer as I try to untangle myself from the rope. As soon as I'm free, Asher helps me up to my feet. I mumble a thanks, but it's drowned out by his laughing outbursts. I know after my struggle, I must look messy but standing in front of Asher makes me more aware of my appearance. I quickly rake through my hair, brushing out the leaves and twigs caught in it. I even try to tuck in my shirt. As his laughing dies down, I assume I look somewhat normal now. We stand there for a while as my brain processes seeing Asher in the woods. For some reason, he doesn't fit here. Sure I see him at school but he does not even acknowledge my presence except to call me Hazelle's friend.

The bakery is where he fits into my life. His laughter, voice and jokes belong there, swirled in with the smells of baked bread, cinnamon and home. It feels awkward to look up into his face without a cake or pastry between us to discuss. He must feel it too because he shares the same look of discomfort. Finally I clear my throat and break the silence.

"I have to head home. I'm going to be late for dinner." I start walking and he easily falls into step with me as if we do this all the time. He replies casually.

"I'll walk you home. Don't want you falling into anymore bear traps." I suddenly stop and look at him. Anger starts getting the better of me as I yell at him.

"A bear trap? How did you know? Did you set that trap? Is that what you're doing out here?" He puts up his hands in mock surrender as he replies.

"Whoa! I just came out here to find the dog. He's Dylan's new pet. His name is Dax. He let him out of the house without a leash. As far as the trap, I know what it is because my dad showed me how to make one when I was younger, but the whole hunting thing is not for me."

Dahlia finally calms down and looks for the dog. She spots it a couple feet behind them. It's sitting on its haunches with its head cocked to the side as if studying our exchange. I start walking again and both Asher and Dax accompany me out of the woods, through the meadow and up the steps to my front porch. When I get to the front porch I kneel down to pet the dog who gives a happy bark in reply. Asher takes the opportunity to slip the leash on him. We rise to stand face to face again and I find it hard to find words…that form a coherent sentence.

"Thank you for the snare…err I mean…getting me out of the snare. And…and ah… walking me home, with Dax. No! I mean you and Dax walking me home…thank you." He is about to reply when the door opens and dad comes out.

"Dahlia where have you been? Dinner is…" He stops as he takes in Asher and I standing there on the porch. Asher quickly excuses himself.

"Hi Mr. Mallerk. I guess I'll head home now. Thanks for saving the dog. I'll ah see you later Dahlia."

As he walks down the steps and onto the road, I can't help but smile at him using my name. He never calls me by my name but after hearing it, I wouldn't mind hearing him say it again. I turn around to see my dad looking at me with a knowing smile and I feel myself blush. I reply to his unanswered comment.

"Dad. It's definitely not like that." He just shakes his head as I brush past him into the house. I hear him mumble something about me being as oblivious as my mother, but I ignore it as I run up the stairs to get changed for dinner.

When I get to the kitchen, my family is already half way through dinner. I grab a bowel, scoop out the stew mom cooked and sit down next to my brother who is plowing his way through his second helping. Before I have the spoon to my lips my father tells me I have permission to go to the capitol. I knew this from my eavesdropping but I try to act surprised and thankful. My mother crushes my excitement with a huge "but."

"But your father and I have decided that I should go with you as a chaperone for the trip."

As I process what my mother said, I hear my brother snicker into his soup. I give him a swift kick under the table. Was having my mom go with me, worst then not going? I play through all the scenarios in my head of a trip with just my mom and me. The thought makes me shudder. I look back at them trying to convey concern in my response.

"Mom you hate the capitol. Wouldn't that make your nightmares worst being there? Maybe dad should go instead?"

I see my mom's jaw clench as she bites back her anger for pointing out her nightmares. I don't know why, but I thought more explanation would help the matter.

"You don't really like crowds or…people, so it makes more sense for dad to go." I could see my brother shaking his head out of the corner of my eye. Mom's attention suddenly turns on him.

"Jonathan don't you have chores to attend to? Tidying up your room. Working on the garden before it gets to dark?"

John just as annoyed, as I am, when my parents ask us to leave a discussion, replies back almost immediately.

" I can't Dahlia is using the shovel right now to dig herself a hole." At that my father bellows "Out" and John quickly gets up and leaves. The three of us sit there in silence until my father speaks.

"Dahlia. The capitol holds bad memories for both of us. We've seen and experienced a lot of atrocities that occurred at the old capitol's hands. It's still really hard for us to separate that capitol and the one we have today. And it's almost unbearable to willingly send our daughter to it. This is more for us to know that you're safe."

My mother takes my father's hand as they share a look of sadness. As if our discussion brought up a painful memory. I begin to feel guilty at my light treatment of a trip to the capitol. I immediately regret the words I spat at my mother and the sadness I caused my father, forcing him to explain their decision. As if my guilt hadn't eaten me up enough, I am awoken in the middle of the night, by my mother's new night terror. She screams out for John and me; pleading with someone to leave us alone.

"Please don't take my children!" Echoes over and over again in the house. The sound of my mother's screams ring in my head long after dad is able to quiet her down.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Finally trip day arrived. Between my mom's long good byes to my father and brother and her reminders about the lists she created in case of emergency, we almost missed the train. Uncle Haymitch stopped by to see us off, but after seeing how neurotic my mother was acting, he whispered to John and I that he immediately regretted that decision.

We reach the train in enough time to store our luggage and settle into our seats before it began its 8 -hour journey to the capitol. My mother does not seem to mind the cramped space and narrow walk-way, but I begin to feel claustrophobic. I can't even get comfortable enough to take a nap. When I look over at my mother, she is knotting and unknotting a piece of rope. I whisper that I am taking a walk, but she merely nods back, never taking her eyes off of the rope.

I decide to walk to the caboose. It's my favorite spot on a train. When we would take trips to visit Aunt Johanna in district 7 or grams, Ms Annie and Finnick Jr in 4, I would spend half the trip sitting outside on the caboose, taking in the scenery and personal space. My favorite part though is the deflection field that keeps anything or anyone from falling off the back of the train. Even at speeds of 370 km/hr a person can stand comfortably on the caboose platform.

As I step out I take a large breath of fresh air. I'm inundated with the smell of pine and quickly realize we are going through district 7. My thoughts wander to Aunt Johanna and what she is currently doing. Probably grilling a lawbreaker until they break down. Aunt Johanna is the commander of the peacekeepers. When dad was mayor they created a program to recruit and train peacekeepers from each district. They would all cycle through the same academy training but when they finished, they would return to protect their own district. The result was a 50% decrease in peacekeeping brutality. Dad and Aunt Johanna's rationale behind it was that its harder for people to oppress those they know. They were right and the idea led to a peacekeeping force that actually lived up to their name.

Suddenly, the door opens behind me and I turn around to see a stewardess with strawberry pink hair scooped up into an elaborate beehive. She acts as if my mere presence is a burden, but she is able to cover up her annoyance with a tight smile.

"Excuse me miss. Passengers are not allowed on the back of the caboose of an express train. I'm going to have to ask you…" She pauses as she feels someone tap her on the shoulder. Her eyes widen in recognition and I can guess who is probably there.

"Ms. Everdeen! It's a pleasure to have you on board. Is there anything I can get you?" Mom answers in a sweet gentle voice that I have never heard her use.

"No dear everything on the train has been wonderful. I do have one little request. Is it alright if I speak to my daughter out here in private?"

The stewardess looks back to me finally, noticing the resemblance and quickly excuses herself. As the train door closes, my mother sits down next to me. I lean back so we're shoulder to shoulder. We sit in silence for almost half an hour taking in the scenery before my mother actually speaks.

"Dahlia. There are some things you should probably know before we get to the capitol."

I hear the nervousness in her voice and can tell that this is something important she wants to tell me. I look up at her to show that I am listening to what she is saying.

"I have not been to the capitol since your dad and I were married, almost 25 years ago. This means there will be a lot of press and media surrounding us during the trip. They know we have children now, but they don't know your names or have seen your faces. This will be the first time they meet you. Don't answer any questions you're not comfortable with. They will also try to ask you questions to incite an emotion, don't fall into the trap..."

I feel myself starting to zone out, as my mother's heart to heart becomes another lecture. I nod and look interested when the conversation requires it. Finally she wraps it up by suggesting we go back inside. My hand is on the doorknob when she stops me. The uncertainty she had when she first began her lecture returns and I realize she did want to tell me something important.

"Dahlia. Your father did want to go on this trip with you. I know you two get along better…but there is a reason he wasn't able to make the trip…" She looks into my eyes and steps a little closer.

"Do you know what hijacking is?"I rack my brain but do not remember hearing the word. I slowly shake my head no.

"It's…" She's cutoff by a sudden jerk of the train. She grabs onto me tightly as I fall backwards and easily return to an upright position due to the deflection field.

"We had better return to our seats."

With that our conversation is over. I am left with more questions then answers. What is hijacking and what does it have to do with why dad could not come to the capitol? There never seemed a good time to bring it up again. After passengers realized she was on the train, many people gathered to talk and take pictures with her. One guy was particularly interested in mom. He held her hand too long, stood too close and touched her when there was no reason. Yet, she was friendly to him and the rest of the passengers who approached. My first thought was this woman is not my mother. My second was the crowd gave her an excuse to avoid finishing our conversation. The more people she greeted, the more I resented her for ignoring me. When the crowds of people finally dispersed she began busying herself with preparing all the kids for arrival. I ignored her and looked out the window. After a few more minutes of rolling hills, I caught my first glance of the capitol. In the distance I could see the massive white dome seated higher then the rest of the buildings. I felt mom lean in next to me to look out the window. A small shiver went through her as she took her first look at the capitol in 25 years. She leaned back, closed her eyes and mumbled;

"Let the games begin."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

If I was confused by my mother's statement, understanding dawns on me once we pull into the station with a waiting reporter and camera crew. I'm not sure who tipped them off, but one look at my mom shows that their presence is not welcome. She manages to help us off the train without being seen, then deftly exits from another section. When she meets us at the transport station, without cameras or reporters following, even our school chaperone, Ms. Becket looks surprised. This is a feat since the high amounts of plastic surgery she has gotten over the years, left her face in a constant mask of indifference.

All 11 of us, climb into a transport wagon with our luggage. We pull away before the media catches a glimpse of my mother. I turn expecting to see her, but realize Asher is sitting quietly next to me. I wonder how long he has been beside me. He doesn't acknowledge me, just sits there, gazing at everyone except me. It does not really matter if he talks or not, as long as he remains the barrier between mom and me. Finally, Natale Frankle breaks the silence.

"How did you avoid all those reporters?" She asks my mother. She gives a little chuckle before responding.

"I may have hinted that there was someone infinitely more famous then me on the train."

I smirk as I realize who she used. Finnick Jr, Model, Visual star and my parent's godson would often hint at my parents' presence in order to slip away from reporters. Seems as if my mom took a few pointers from him.

When we arrive at the hotel, there are bellhops waiting at the door of our transport. It felt like a well-orchestrated dance as each bellhop grabs our bags and then helps us down from the wagon. They follow us into the hotel lobby and then stand patiently as we wait to check-in. Mom goes to check us in as Ms. Beckett gives us our room assignments. By some horrible twist of fate, I am placed with Queen Jane and one of her little minions. She does not dare say anything to me in the presence of our teacher or my mother, but I know what is waiting for me when we get into the room.

When my mother walks back to the group with our swipe keys, I quickly grab one and head for the elevator. The poor bellhop with my bags barely makes it into the elevator before it shoots up to the 30th floor. I swipe in and he places my bags down and disappears. Now seems a good time to practice my speech. It was the best excuse to avoid both my mother and Jane. I find my index cards with my speech written on it and dash back out of the room. As I wait for the elevator, I soon hear Jane's shrill laughter coming through the elevator shaft. I spot the stairwell exit and push through it just as the elevator door dings. Taking the stairs two at a time I bound up the spiral staircase to the roof.

Once there, I'm glad I made the trip. The view of the city is breathtaking. I look down to see blurring vehicle lights and people looking the size of ants. I am too distracted by the view to notice someone coming up behind me. When he put his hands on my arms, I jump. One laugh and I know exactly who it is.

"Asher! God, what are you doing up here? Are you stalking me or something?" At that he laughs even louder. He responds in a shrill capitol accent.

"Oh princess Dahlia! I would never dare invade your space." At his ridiculous imitation I laugh too. We settle down and find a little spot to take in the view. He finally speaks again. "This is nothing like home is it?"

I shake my head in agreement. Even though the houses in the Victor's village sit higher then the town, we never had a view like this. We sit there for a few minutes before I remember what brought me up here. I pull out my note cards and start reading through them.

"What are those?" Without bothering to ask, Asher snatches the cards. I try to grab them back but he easily holds me back with one arm. I stop fighting and tell him, hoping he will give the cards back.

"That's my speech for my presentation. Can I have them back now?" He reads through a few of the note cards and looks back at me in surprise.

"What? No great battle plan? You're the mockingjay's daughter and your topic is medical triage?" At the mention of my mother I get a little annoyed and snap back at him.

"I left the grisly details of warfare up to the general's son." I poke him in between the ribs for extra emphasis. He just laughs and looks away. When he speaks again, his voice is much softer.

"My presentation is on peace keeping strategies and the idea of a peace treaty. When my dad found out I had won, he was thrilled. Then he found out my topic. You would have thought I told him I dropped out of school to become a coal miner." I thought back to my mother's reaction of my topic and realized how alike Asher's dad and my mom were.

"That sounds like how my mom reacted. They're two peas in a pod your dad and my mom. I wonder why they don't get along more." His head whips back towards me and, I knew that I was missing something important. He can't keep the shock out of his voice.

"You don't know?" One would think that my confused expression is enough to show I did not know whatever he thinks I should know, but he does not continue until I finally ask.

"Know what?" He shakes his head, still in shock at my ignorance.

"They were best friends." It takes me a while to process that. I think about all the things that Elle and I do together. It was hard to think of my mom and Mr. Hawthorne gossiping on their communicators or going over each other's houses to hang out. Asher's voice slices through my thoughts and I return my attention to his story.

"In fact my dad was in love with your mom. But when the hunger games came and she met your dad, things changed. I guess he loved her for a while after that. They fought together in the rebellion after all. But in the end, she chose your dad." I shake my head in disbelief.

"Asher, how do you know all this?" He blushes a bit before he answers.

"My mom brings it up sometimes when she fights with dad. She'll say things like 'If you loved me as much as you loved Katniss you would do this for me.' She even asks him flat out if he still loves your mom."

I sit in shock, as Asher's words continue to sink in. My mom and Mr. Hawthorne were friends? In love? I think back to the few times our parents were in the same room. The awkward exchanges and forced conversation now make sense. I start to feel a bit light headed and wonder if too much air was a bad thing. Asher, silently hands me my index cards and stands up. I want to stand too but my body is two steps behind my brain, and I cannot get up without Asher's help. Before we walk through the door, he stops me.

"Look Dahlia. You'll do great tomorrow. You don't need the note cards." I can't help but smile at Asher's faith in me. He goes through the door and down the stairs before I even had a chance to wish him good luck.

I walk back down the stairs in a mini haze. The thought that my parents were not always in love seems unimaginable. I return to the room, only acutely aware of Jane and her lackey talking to me. I see them point to a cot folded up in the corner and realize that must be my bed. I set it up; grab my shower supplies and head to the bathroom. The shower brings me out of my stupor, but I quickly wish it had not. Jane's voice emits from the room and I know she is talking about me.

"I don't know why. Everyone knows she won because of her parents. I mean a freshman contest winner?"

I try to not let her words affect me and intentionally drown her out with the blow dryer. After my hair is dry, I start braiding it back, but hear their conversation is still going.

"Wouldn't you be scared of her too? I mean you saw her in the hunger games. Taking out people left and right with her bow and arrow. Oh yeah don't forget the girl she killed with the tracker jackers."

My hands still as I listen to the girls talk about my mother. I wish they would stop there or I had the courage to walk out of the bathroom and say something. But I can only stand in front of the bathroom mirror and listen. I hear Jane's bratty friend, continue.

"What about Peeta Mallerk? Jane taking pleasure in the new subject responds back.

"He's almost worse. He claims to be against the violence, and above everything that's going on but he's definitely not." The girl of course questions appropriately.

"What do you mean?" Jane pretends to whisper back, but she still talks loud enough for me to hear.

"Do you remember the reason why he stepped down as mayor?" The girl answers back quickly with the decency not to pretend to whisper.

"Yeah. He said a threat had been made on his family and he was choosing their safety over being mayor or..." Jane, so excited to dish what she knew, barely allows the other girl to finish.

"Yeah and how they caught the man who threatened him and punished him." She pauses either for emphasis or confirmation from the other girl before continuing. "The truth is they caught the guy way before the announcement. It turns out in addition to being jailed; Mayor Mallerk took justice into his own hands. He beat and tortured the guy during interrogation and even threatened his family." There is silence in the room and I finally realize how hard I am clutching onto the sink for support. It was a good idea since the information about my parents made my head swim. The girl finally speaks with a little doubt in her voice.

"Jane are you sure that's what happened? I mean that does not sound like Mayor Mallerk." I was actually relieved that the girl agreed with what I know. My dad is not capable of hurting or torturing someone. Jane in true mean girl form snaps back.

"Don't be stupid. Of course I know what I'm talking about. My dad was his representative. He grew up with the guy in the capitol. My father said when he saw him after interrogation he looked really beat up. He had a black eye, a broken nose and he said that his life and his family's lives had been threatened by Mayor Mallerk himself." Jane's lackey, unconcerned with just being insulted, replies back excitedly.

"Did he actually do it?" Jane takes another pause before answering. This time she really does whisper. I press my ear to the door to hear.

"Yeah he did it. But he was justified. They say they are trying to make Panem more peaceful and equal for everyone, but what they are really doing is taking from the hard working people to give to filth. My grandfather was a well-established capitol judge, but he was stripped of his title and forced out of the capitol because his views did not match the rebels. Damnett, the guy who Mayor Mallerk beat up, had a similar story. They take everything from us and expect us to be happy. It's not going to work and it's not going to last."

Jane's words ring through me as I realize her threat. I grab the hair dryer and grip the handle until my knuckles turn white. A vengeful plan forms in my head and I try to flesh it out as I pull the cord out of the socket. I could take out Jane's lackey first. A swift blow to the head is all she needs. Then I would go for Jane. I know enough knots to make use of the dryer cord. Yes that sounds like a good plan.

I look in the mirror expecting to see an angry rebel. Instead there is a scared little girl starring back. She is on the verge of tears and clutching to a hair dryer like a security blanket. I slowly put the hair dryer down and step out of the bathroom. Jane and her little minion glare at me as I make my way to my cot in the corner and lie down with my back facing them. I can't keep the tears from flowing as I feel the true depths of my uselessness. I am not able to defend the rebel ideals. I am not even able to defend my own parents. After an hour of trying to fall asleep, I hear the girl whisper to Jane.

"Do you think she's capable of killing people too?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After a fitful night's sleep, dreaming about my parents trying to kill me, I am jolted awake by loud, incessant knocking. It takes me a minute to realize the knocking was coming from our door and another minute to read the clock time; 5:45 am.

"You have got to be kidding." I mutter to myself.

I glance over at Queen Jane and her worker bee asleep in the bed. If they heard the knocking, both were doing a great job of pretending not to hear it and feigning sleep. I finally get up and open the door.

"Good morning Dahlia! Let's go. We have a very, very busy day ahead of us."

It takes me a moment to realize I know the whimsical lady with bright pink hair and bright red lipstick. Then an additional second to realize she had been waiting for me to respond.

"Miss Effie…hi err hello how are you? It's so nice to see you. Ahh might I ask what you are doing here?"

Though not initially pleased with my reception, I must have made up for it enough in my rambled greeting to avoid a lecture on manners.

"Why it's the day of your presentation of course. And it is the day that the public sees Katniss Everdeen their "mockingjay" returning to the capital after 25 years."

I bite my tongue, to keep from correcting her on my mother's married name. Manners are very important to Miss Effie and Miss Effie is very important to my parents and Uncle Haymitch. Even though mom and Uncle Haymitch seem annoyed by her annual presence at our Independence Day dinners, both constantly lecture John and I about being on our best behavior when she is present. Our behavior no longer matters, however after Uncle Haymitch has more then two drinks during dinner and starts to tell inappropriate stories. A hug and her attempt to brush down my morning hair bring me out of my reverie.

"Come along Dahlia. We are going to get you camera ready for today."

I quickly run into the room, grab shoes and a hotel chip card, then run back out, letting the door slam behind me. I expect to have to wait for the elevators but instead we walk the two flights of stairs to the penthouse floor.

There are only two rooms on the entire floor. Both have ornate double doors and two peacekeepers posted outside of them. I try not to roll my eyes at the outlandish idea that anyone would get near my mother. First of all, the rebellion ended almost 30 years ago. Who would care about hurting her now? Second, I'm pretty sure she could defend herself much better then the powder puffs looking peacekeepers in front of us. Miss Effie takes my hand and practically drags me over to one of the doors. She begins her rapid knocking until someone wrenches the door open.

Miss Effie gently pulls me into the room after her, but I stop when I catch sight of a man. A shiver runs down my spine as I recognize him as the creepy guy from the train. His dark cold eyes bore into me as I step into the room. He scares me but I can't stop staring and taking in everything about him. His graying hair and stubbly chin are an appropriate compliment to his general disheveled appearance. His eyes are dark and so tiny the pupils are not visible. When I study his mouth, his teeth are barred like a wild wolf and he growls at me. The peacekeepers, now aware of the man in the hall, stand in front of me. I feel one gently push me over the threshold and close the door. But not before I hear the man yell '_mutt_.'

I enter the room and realize no one inside noticed or heard the creepy man from the hallway. When I open my mouth to mention it, a beautiful woman takes my hand and introduces me to the styling team.

"Dahlia, this is Octavia and Venia." The plump older woman with green tinted leathery skin smiles at me and starts gabbing.

"Hello dear. Do you remember us? The thin tattooed woman who seems to carry a permanent look of surprise interrupts.

"Of course she doesn't remember, she was barely 6 the last time we saw her…"

The man with the orange and white swirl hair quickly cuts her off to introduce himself with extra flair.

"I'm Flavius, one of your mom's stylists. You probably don't remember, but the last time we were at your house, you wanted to take me to see your bunny."

I laugh with him realizing that as a child, I trusted this colorful man with the secret of my hide away pets. I'm not sure how he won me over then, but I admit that I began to like him; well all of them. The women turns back to face me and I realize for the first time, it is my mother. I try to keep the amazement out of my voice as I ask.

"Mom?" She gives me a quick yes dear as she expects me to continue my question, but I continue to look at her flabbergasted. I try to say more, but all that comes out is;

"You look…" She quickly adds in what she thinks I intend to say.

"I know, I know. It's too much." She reaches for a towel, but I reach for her hand to stop her. I smile at her with sincerity.

"Mom, you look really pretty." At first the compliment makes her self-conscious and she blushes a bit. After a few seconds though, she smiles back and gives me a hug. Sensing they were safe from my mother's wrath, the prep team and Miss Effie pipe up to agree with my assessment. I hear Venia add in;

"Katniss, I told you so." Mom releases me and gives a little shake of her head.

"Okay, okay. You finally convinced me. But keep Dahlia natural; nothing extra. She is still a kid."

The prep team nods their acceptance but I doubt they will listen. Miss Effie, steers us back on track.

"We must keep moving. Don't forget our schedule."

My mother fights hard to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she replies, "Effie, I've told you there is no schedule. I am on a field trip with Dahlia not a press tour of the capitol." While she continues to argue with Miss Effie, Flavius grabs my hand and guides me to a salon chair. Once I settle into the chair, it shifts. Suddenly I am reclined back with my feet up. Venia and Flavius made quick work of waxing, clipping and polishing every part of my body. When they are satisfied, they shift the chair back to a sitting position and start on my hair. It is then I notice mom, Miss Effie and one member of the prep team are no longer in the room.

"Where did everyone go?" I ask to the remaining two. Venia answers quickly.

"They're in the bathroom helping your mom with outfits." I quickly realize they have plans to dress me too. My eyes roam the massive room until they find a rack flowing with a wardrobe to die for. It's not that our family cannot afford nice clothing, it's that my parents refuse to buy what they call "frivolous things." We buy the necessities and the rest of their money goes into District 12's rebuilding fund. I honestly think their money alone has rebuilt the district, but they would never admit to that. My clothing envy is interrupted by Flavius' friendly conversation.

"I hope you're not nervous for your presentation. It's about medicine right?" I try to nod my head in confirmation but they hold my neck still while they work on my hair. Turns out, Flavius does not need confirmation to continue talking. "Your mother has been gushing about it all morning. She is so proud of you!" My eyes almost pop out of my head at what he just uttered. I could not keep the laughter out of my voice when I reply.

"My mother? Proud of my medical presentation? I don't think so." Venia quickly confirms his statement.

"Flavius is right. She has been non-stop about it this morning. We have known your mother a long time and it was the most I have ever heard her talk at once." I look in the large mirror to check for sarcasm in their faces but there is none. I finally begin to give into the idea.

"It's just hard to believe. She wasn't exactly thrilled when I told her I wanted to be a doctor." They are both silent for a minute until Venia finally says.

"No I guess she would have a hard time with that one. Poor dear." I was slightly confused but Flavius, whom I now realize is a gossip quickly fills in the blanks.

"Oh yes I forgot her sister, what was her name?" He continues as if we had spoken. "Prim! Yes that's it." Venia adds into his conversation.

"Yes such a darling girl so sweet. Do you remember how kind she was when we were in the infirmary?" I see Flavius nod and continue.

"Even at 13 you could see her passion and talent for healing. It's such a shame how she died." Now completely lost, I finally jump into the conversation.

"What do you mean? How did she die?" They look at each other then look at the bathroom door before answering in a low voice.

"Prim was serving as a medic during the rebellion and well… no one knows how she ended up there but she came in to the capitol during the last rebel siege at the capitol and…"

"She was killed by a bomb." As my mother finishes the statement, both of their heads whip up to look at her. I feel them shrink back as she walks out of the bathroom. I turn to look and I practically see waves of anger rolling off of her.

"I watched my sister being blown up only a few blocks away from here and you all wonder why I never come to visit? I guess you can forget things like that but I can't. I can't forget the scared look of all those children set up like a human barrier. I can't forget seeing those damn parachutes strapped with bombs. And I will never forget the last look on my sister's face before those bombs went off." When she stops talking all of us stare at her in shocked silence until she turns and walks out of the room.

After mom leaves, the team finishes my hair and lets me pick my outfit for the day. They do not talk except to comment on the outfit. Miss Effie who has been uncharacteristically quiet, is about to escort me back to my room when my mother returns. It was clear she had been crying but all of us pretend not to notice. She apologizes to everyone and they easily forgive her with hugs and words of reassurance. Mom tells Miss Effie she will help me get my presentation and suggests they go down and get seats. When everyone has shuffled out, my mother finally turns and looks at me.

"I am so sorry sweetheart. I do want you to become a doctor. I want you to do what makes you happy. Just…just be careful." She quickly crosses the room and hugs me tightly. I return the hug feeling her reluctance to let me go. Finally she breaks the hug and gives me a quick peck on the forehead. "I am so proud of you Dahlia." It seems silly, but a statement like that from my mom feels wonderful and a large grin spreads across my face. She quickly grabs my hand and leads me out the door.

"Now let's get your presentation!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

With mom's help it only takes 5 minutes to set up. I check the ingredients for my demonstration and realize the rudouba root for my medicine is missing. I double-check every pocket but I cannot find it anywhere. I start to panic.

"Everything okay sweetheart?" In my frantic searching, I didn't hear mom come up beside me. I am on the verge of tears when I reply.

"I can't find the rudouba root. I know I packed it, but its not here." She gives me a reassuring smile.

"Well maybe we can find something similar." I nod willing to try anything. "If I remember correctly, coriander is similar to it. I'll see if they have some in the kitchen." She gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. "Everything will be okay Dahlia." With that she makes her way out of the ballroom.

Left with nothing to do but wait, I scope out the room. Spotting Asher a few tables away, I tentatively wave to him. He does not look up from the paper in his hands. Despite his formal attire of a suit and slicked back hair; his nerves make him appear disheveled. I walk over, thinking about what he said to me last night. Naturally, I swipe his paper and hold it out of his grasp, while pretending to read from it.

"World peace! Don't you know you are a general's son?"

Asher quickly picks up on my teasing and begins to relax. He laughs a little as he reaches for the paper, but pauses when he looks at me. A silly grin starts to spread on his face and I begin to feel a little flutter in my stomach. I give a girly giggle before asking him what he is looking at. At that, he takes a step back from me and looks down at the floor.

"I ahh…you just look really nice today." It was then I remember this morning's makeover. Apparently their idea of natural was still noticeably different from my normal. I try to laugh off the compliment.

"Well I had help this morning." Quickly changing the subject, I add. "You look really nice too. Too nice to look so nervous." He grabs his presentation back from me and continues to look down.

"Yeah well I'm not as great a speaker as you." I notice his cheeks start to redden as he admits this. Instead of encouraging words I think of something better. I grab a pen and piece of paper from his presentation speech, twist the two into a pastry bag and hand them to him. He looks back at me with confusion.

"You are a really good speaker when you're explaining things at the bakery. So just hold that and imagine your talking to a few customers." He looks back at me with doubt, but I continue to encourage him. "Just try it. If that doesn't work you could always imagine the audience in their underwear."

He gives a laugh and finally I see all signs of nervousness erased from his face and replaced with the look of happiness. It's the look I catch myself drawing sometimes when I think of him. My stomach does a little flip and I look away now very aware of my feelings for him. It is then that I notice Jane and the other stooges glaring at us. Not in the mood for a confrontation, I make an excuse to return back to my booth.

My mother returns with the coriander and I quickly place it into the cabinet I brought for the demonstration. After that a man comes out to announce that District 12's presentations will start in 5 minutes. The man, who is a clear capitol native with jeweled hair and a iridescent orange suit returns five minutes later to begin the fair. He quickly goes over the rules. Each presenter has 20 minutes. This time would include demonstrations; questions or any additional information the presenter would like to add. At the end of their time a bell will go off and the next presenter will start. We are to present in alphabetical order, meaning I am presenter 7. Asher is 5.

The first presenters are okay but admittedly, I don't pay attention until Asher's turn. He nervously stands up, but he holds onto the pastry bag shaped pen I gave him. The first few minutes are shaky, but after that he begins to speak more easily. That's when I see the boy from the bakery come out. When he finishes, I am completely convinced he's found the solution to world peace. By the loud applause and nodding of approval from the audience, they are convinced too. It feels like Asher has just sat down before the prompter signals me to get ready. I start to get nervous but I just take a few deep breaths to calm me before I start.

"Good morning ladies and gentleman. Thank you to the board of free thinkers for selecting me to be apart of this lecture. My name is Dahlia Mellark." Whispering erupts at my name. I try to smooth the tension and keep my speech on track.

"Before you ask…yes this is a Donnel." I stand in a ridiculous pose to fake model my dress. There are a few appreciative chuckles before I continue.

"My presentation today is on medical triage. I did it not just because it is the one topic I can prove my parents did not help me with." More chuckles. "It is also a topic I care passionately about. What is the best way to help our wounded in a time of war?"

Throughout the presentation, the audience seems to nod, chuckle and look intrigued as if on cue. Half of me wonders if they are staged. As I am about to switch to the demonstration, a hand goes up. I am momentarily stunned by the interruption until I realize it is Jane. While other presenters are allowed to ask questions, most do not out of consideration for their fellow presenters. This however was Jane and me and the rules of common courtesy do not apply. I try to brush her off.

"I will take questions at the end of the session." I turn to face my demonstration but the talking behind me, tells me she still has her hand up. I turn to her again. "Well either your question is very important or your arm is stuck that way. Either way I can help." She puts her hand down and pretends to act timid as she asks her question.

"How would you prepare for an unforeseen attack on a medical unit?" I know immediately she had been through my things. On the note cards, I had written down possible questions I would need to answer. This was the one I didn't have an answer for, until now.

"Well since we don't know it's coming, this is when a proper military shelter like the one Mr. Exler talked about in his presentation is important. His design could protect the medical unit or at the least, hold up the walls until we can implement some of these medical evacuation techniques. Which brings me back to my demonstration." I quietly congratulate myself for answering the question and once again return the audiences' attention to my demonstration.

As I walk to the cabinet I hear a small hiss emanate from the cabinet.

"Five minutes remain." The prompter whispers on the side.

The closer I get to the cabinet, the louder the hissing gets. I think about alerting the prompter but don't want to be penalized. I decide to ignore it and reach for the cabinet anyway. As my hand touches the handle, the cabinet explodes.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The impact of the blast knocks me back and I am acutely aware of searing pain in my hand. That is really all I remember before chaos breaks out. Hotel security and cameras seem to come out of the woodwork as they quickly douse the fiery remains of my presentation. I hear several people frantically call my name but I can't locate them in the chaos. Suddenly, I feel a strong pair of hands lift me up and hoist me over their shoulder. It doesn't take long to realize it is Asher. At only two tables away, he practically had a front seat to the display. We blend into the crowd pushing out of the ballroom. I finally force Asher to put me down so that it would be easier for us to move around. We follow the voices yelling my name to a small alcove beside the ballroom. I catch a quick glance of the worried faces of Miss Effie and the prep team before my mother runs and grabs me. She practically squeezes the air out of me, as she whispers.

"Dahlia, Oh my God! I thought I had lost you. I thought…" She suddenly pulls me away from her and begins checking every part of me. My face, arms, hands, legs and back to my hand. I protest slightly when she tries to check my chest and back.

"Mom I'm fine. There are other people here." I try to hint at Asher's presence but she is not aware of anyone else. She examines my hand over and over and I try not to wince as she holds it. Finally she asks with clear concern in her eyes.

"Does it hurt sweetheart?" I know it would break her heart if I admit to how bad it feels so I try to play it down.

"No not really. It just feels like I got a sunburn on my hand." The red, raw appearance of it helps support my explanation. She finally stops checking me but does not let go of my other hand.

With my mother sure that I am okay, her brain clicks over to battle mode. She asks Asher to look out for reporters or camera crews. She then instructs Miss Effie and the prep team to circle around me as we make our way to the elevators. On Asher's signal we leave the alcove and quickly head toward the elevators. Hotel security blocking the hallway off the lobby, step aside to let us through but step back as soon as we walk past. A couple reporters notice our exit and try to take pictures or yell over the security's big burly shoulders.

There is a collective group exhale, the moment the pent house doors close behind us. The atmosphere remains tense however as everyone disperses to handle the situation. Miss Effie begins a press whirl; my mother has a conference with the peacekeepers and the prep team gossips among themselves. I scrounge for my mother's first aid kit and then take a seat by the window.

As I wrap my hand, questions whirl through my head. The biggest one being, what the hell just happened? It was just a stupid presentation. Why would anyone want to blow it up? I know the answer or at least what everyone else probably thinks. It was a message against the rebellion and I was the target. I think about what that would mean. If my parents are over protective now, then my life will move to constant lock down. God forbid they tell Aunt Joanna, she would set John and I up with our own peacekeeper details. I need to think, I need time to figure this out, but as I hear mom requesting the security tape from the ballroom and Miss Effie reading through her press release, I know that the time anyone will listen to me, is quickly running out. "Think Dahlia, think." I scream in my head. My brain works on over drive to turn this situation around. That is when I think of Uncle Haymitch's advice.

I was in trouble for not doing my chores and cleaning my room; again. My punishment was cleaning Uncle Haymitch's room, which if you have been in his house, is more like torture then punishment. As I came down the steps, scarred at having to clean his filthy room, I saw Uncle Haymitch staring out his window. I walked to the fridge and helped myself to something to drink then sat at the table across from him. He finally turned to acknowledge my presence. He gave me a rare smile before saying.

"Can't stay out of trouble can you sweetheart?" I could only shrug. He was right, I did seem to always get in trouble.

"It's just as hard for your parents to punish you as it is for you to get in trouble. They are starting to feel like parental failures. So do yourself and your parents a favor and learn to lie." I stared back at him slightly confused.

"I try to lie, but they always see through it." He just shakes his head again.

"Well then, you need to become a more convincing liar." His advice starts to make sense. I look at the fear and angst in the faces around the room. This threat scares them more then I can understand. When my eyes rest on my mother, practically reliving her last bomb at the capitol, I know it's time for me to tell the most convincing lie of my life.

I began muttering ingredients to myself, loud enough to get the prep team's attention. They look at me with concern before Venia comes over to ask if I'm okay. I pretend to have an epiphany as I turn to face her.

"I think I figured out what happened." At this the other two come up beside Venia and lean in to hear my explanation.

"I switched ingredients at the last moment. I used coriander instead of rodouba root." I slapped my good hand on the table for effect. "Coriander! I knew I shouldn't have done that." The three of them look confused, but I have Miss Effie's attention now too. I continue with my story. "Rodouba root is very watery. It's able to maintain its form in my mixture because of that. Coriander however, dries out easily. When I put it in the medicine, then stuck it in the cabinet it was like leaving dry brush in heat." Finally, Octavia speaks up.

"Even dry brush needs a spark to catch on fire. How did it catch on fire?" I am a little surprised she knows that but hide it by burying my head in my hands.

"Magnesium and lithium at the right temperature can catch fire. They just never did because of the water like properties in the rodouba root." Not taking my head from my hands I began shaking my head. "I'm such an idiot." When all four began to hug and reassure me I knew the lie was working.

"Dahlia sweetheart what's wrong? Are you okay? Does something hurt?" When I look up, I'm face to face with my mother who has pushed the group out of the way to get to me.

My mother would be a tough sell. Unlike the rest of the group, my mother has a little knowledge of the remedies and ingredients Gram uses for healing. I however don't know what she actually knows or remembers. I blink a few times to get a couple of fake tears rolling down my face before responding.

"I'm sorry mom. This is all my fault. The coriander was too dry for the mixture and it blew up in my face…literally." She gives me a quizzical look and I quickly run through the same explanation I gave to the group before. When I finish, she looks more concerned for me then relieved.

"Dahlia." She reaches out and wipes the tear rolling down my cheek. "Don't blame yourself for something you could not have done. I've seen my mother make modifications to that remedy before and it has never blown up." I grab her hand in urgency, practically pleading.

"I altered grams recipe though! You know that certain plants can catch fire. Remember when one of the plants I left in my pocket ended up in the dryer?" I study her face as she thinks about it. I know she would remember since I ruined the dryer and almost set the house on fire. When her eyes refocus on mine, I finally see understanding.

"Oh Dahlia." She stands up to hug me and stroke my hair. "Well you are okay and that's all I care about right now." She lets go and turns to Miss Effie. "Do you have a way to spin this?" She returns a surprised look.

"Why of course I do!" She returns to the desk to rewrite the press release and my mother and I come to an agreement to continue with the field trip if I sleep in her room tonight. After last night, I much prefer my mother's nightmares over June so I happily go down to retrieve my things. When I swipe in, the room is empty and I assume that they have continued with the presentations. I'm secretly thankful that I no longer have to be alone with them. I am about to grab my bag when I see it. Lying on top of my bag, is my rodouba root.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I search the crowd for what seemed like the 100th time for any sign of Asher. After coming up with the idea to lie in order to figure things out, I realized I would need help. Asher was my one and truthfully only available choice. When I finally see him exit the elevator, I am surprised to see my mother pull him aside. They talk briefly, look in my direction and then head over toward our group meeting spot. I do not let them settle down before I ask.

"What was the little pow wow about?" Asher looks at my mother and my mother just shakes her head.

"It was nothing important." She says as she spots the head of security and quickly excuses herself. Once she is out of earshot I stare Asher down until he caves.

"Fine." He finally gives in. "She's just a little worried about you. I mean you did almost blow yourself up this morning." At these words, I realize that Miss Effie must have sent out a press release and statement during the fair. I turn away, a little embarrassed.

"Yeah about that…I think Jane was behind this." He gives me a suspicious look.

"You think Jane made your cabinet explode?"

"Well no…" I start. "…Maybe…I'm not sure. But I'm pretty sure she took the ingredient I was missing. After the explosion, I found it on my suitcase." He just shrugs.

"Maybe you just forgot it in your room." I shake my head, but don't have time to explain. I stop talking as a few of the guys from the conference surround our area. Two I knew from school but the other two were strangers. They all turn to Asher as if I am not there.

"Yo man. You going to the party by the pool tonight." A sandy haired boy from our school asks Asher. I look at him in question, but soon realize he is ignoring me since people from school are around. They talk for a few more minutes before heading over to the guy selling candy. Asher finally looks back at me.

"Sorry you were saying something." Now I am pissed off and want him to know.

"Oh you're talking to me now. I'm sorry I didn't mean to talk around your friends." I try to put as much apathy into my voice as I can muster. Asher however is unconcerned by my tone.

"You know, you could have said something. Introduced yourself or tried to be sociable instead of trying to blend into the couch." My mouth drops open. I do not believe he is turning this around on me.

"Why couldn't YOU introduce me? Isn't that how it goes." He seems to stumble over his words as he tries to reply.

"I couldn't…It wouldn't…People would think… I mean they would get the wrong idea…about us." As his words sink in, a little part of me, the part that always thought about Asher, is sad by his reaction. Instead of letting my feelings show, I hide behind an attitude.

"So what's your solution then Mr. Popular? I just barge into every conversation I'm interested in? My attitude, finally gets to him and he blurts out what he's really thinking.

"Oh come off it. You and Elle don't get it. Everyone knew who you were before you even got to high school. Not just your class, but everyone. You two keep to yourselves so much that it's intimidating for anyone to approach you. For the first time in your lives, you two have to make an effort to make friends instead of them coming to you. It may get better for Elle after I graduate but people will still know you. So maybe now is the time for you to work on those people skills."

I could only stare at him in shock. I was angry, embarrassed and confused all at the same time. My teeth ground together in rage and I try to stare him down again. Asher stares right back, this time unwilling to back down. I finally look away. I can not believe Asher would say things like that. He was there when Jane teased us. He even defended us! I am so mad I can't sit down anymore.

I stand up and spit a quick reply.

"Whatever." As I walk away, I know that my response to all he said is lame, but I really can't think of anything better.

The rest of the morning, Asher and I avoid each other. Thankfully we spend the afternoon at a museum where I can wander around alone. I try my best imitation of an art critic as I stare at each painting. In my head, though I'm thinking about what Asher said. Is that really what we look like to everybody; like we keep to ourselves and seem unapproachable? Asher made us out as these popular girls who acted too good to socialize with anyone else. He made us sound like Jane.

I finally came out of my little world and realize that Natale was staring at the painting next to me. We had been friends when we were little. Her mom, Ms Delly had grown up with my parents and so we would play together when they would visit. Natale was a year older then me though and things changed when she went to high school. Now she, like everyone else, ignored me. At least I thought they were ignoring me. Maybe Asher is right. Maybe it is Elle and I who close ourselves off to the rest of the school. I decide to make an effort with her. We had been friends once so it wouldn't be that unusual for us to talk. Besides if she blows me off, I can throw it back in Asher's face. I stand in front of the same picture she has been looking at for so long. Failing to find the perfect words, I just say the first thing that pops into my head.

"You have been looking at this picture for a really long time so you must be seeing something I'm not." She looks up a little surprised that someone is talking to her. Then seems extra surprised to see it's me. She gives a bright smile as she explains.

"I don't know there's just something about it that I find so beautiful." I look at the picture again and wonder if we are really looking at the same thing. The title of the painting is "Dark Night" and most of the canvas is black save a few dots of light and the central figure, who is looking at the destruction of his town. I finally look back at her with clear confusion before she giggles and explains.

"It's not the destruction I'm looking at, it's the lights all around him. They just remind me of little glimmers of hope in a world wrapped in darkness. And if you look here..." She grabs my hand and pulls me to where she is standing. "Here you see that he's not really looking at the destruction at all, but up at those lights." I look at the man again and realize she is right.

"Wow Natale that's amazing!" I shake my head and say what's on my mind. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You could always see the beauty and truth in everything." She smiles appreciatively and blushes a little at the compliment. We reminisce about a few of the adventures we had as kids before moving on. I tag along through the rest of the exhibit. When she finds a painting that interests her, she stops and explains what she sees. By the end, I had a new appreciation for art.

When we break for lunch, I introduce myself to a few of the other students. But just like Asher said, they already knew who I was and so it was me getting to know them. I was enjoying having a group around me during lunch when Asher squeezes himself between Natale and me. He barely sits down before he whispers.

"Told you so."

I try to scowl at him, but find that I'm too happy to act mad. What makes the situation better is that Jane and her mean crew are sitting off by themselves, occasionally glaring over at our table. After lunch, I come up to Asher and try to apologize.

"I guess you were not wrong about Elle and me needing to be more social." He looks up, acting completely astounded by my words. He replies back in his horrible Capitol accent.

"Why Dahlia Mellark, are you saying that I was right." I couldn't help but giggle a little bit but reluctantly answer.

"Yes, fine okay you were right. Are you happy?" He just chuckles to himself and walks away.

I follow Natale and the rest of the group to our meet up spot. I finally see my mom for the first time since we arrived at the museum. For some reason she looks a little pale. When Ms. Becket announces the next exhibits we are visiting are the hunger games and the Rebellion era exhibits, I understand my mother's paling. She is guaranteed to see a lot from her past. I let everyone file out before approaching my mother. I ask her tentatively.

"Mom are you okay." She seems to snap out of her daze as she realizes I am there. She gives me a sad smile and puts a hand on my shoulder before replying.

"I'm fine sweetheart. I just might need to skip these exhibits." Before she stands up, I stop her and say what I have always wanted to ask her.

"But you never talk about them…neither of you do. I was just hoping…" She cuts me off quickly.

"There's a reason we don't talk about it, Dahlia. Living through it once or even twice was more then enough." I know I've lost the fight but can't help adding.

"So I'm going to go upstairs and learn about you and dad from a museum exhibit? That's so…stupid! Your voice…your story is important to me…to everyone! It just would be nice to hear it from you for a change."

My mother, looking too angry to respond, simply stands up and heads for the exit.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I walk into the hunger games exhibit, unprepared for what is in front of me. The art curator tried to show the games in a less gruesome way but there is no good spin on a 75 year tradition, celebrating the massacre of children. I walk around slowly taking in the whole exhibit. I hear the speech they gave at the beginning of every reaping. Surprisingly, the voice is Miss Effie. The games were broken into a timeline featuring a short blurb about each game and their victor. The more popular games, had more information. There was a large spot for the second quarter quell. As I stop and read it, admiring Uncle Haymitch as a teenager, I start to get a weird sensation I'm being watched. I turn and realize half the students are following me. They think I know more about the games then they did. How wrong they are. Martas, a junior from school speaks up first.

"We learned about him in history. He was the victor from 48 tributes not just the usual 24. Is…is he mean?" I look back at him in surprise.

"Who Uncle Haymitch? No not at all!" I quickly try to think of how to describe him. "He's actually really funny. He taught us how to spit and how to do a loud whistle with our fingers." I demonstrate and see many amused glances back. I think about the epiphany I had this morning and add. "And he gives really good advice."

With that we move on. I try to add in little stories about the people who I know. I guess when all most kids know is from a history book, who a person really is gets lost. I mention how smart Mr. Beetee is and how Miss Annie is one of the nicest people I know. I tell them the story of when I was little, Aunt Joanna helped me capture the invisible monster in my closet. She then had a "talk with him" where he agreed to leave me alone if I ate all my vegetables and did what my parents said. There were a few chuckles when I mentioned mom and Aunt Joanna's horrible holiday singing duets.

We finally came to the 74th hunger games and I saw my parents. I was lost for words. I studied the pictures quietly, forgetting everyone else until I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Natale. I gave her a sad smile.

"My parents don't really talk about it that much, so you probably know more then me." She took my hand and positioned me in front of her, as she had done earlier. I was standing in front of a picture of my parents cuddled together in a cave. They were both pretty banged up. My dad looked like his leg had been chewed up and my mom had a huge cut on her forehead. They both had gashes, cuts and boils in random places. Yet, they seemed to stare past all these imperfections and look into each other's souls. It was beautiful. When I looked down for the name of the picture, I was a little surprised to see underneath, my dad listed as the artist. I knew he painted, but this was breathtaking. Natale finally spoke.

"When my dad died, I just remember your mom being there. She would come over and cook dinner or bring me over to play with you when my mom was too sad to get up. My older sisters were dealing with their own grief and no one made time for me, except your mom."

After Natale, other students tell stories of my parents. Some are about the Hunger Game while others are personal encounters. Ms Becket even adds one. I am left that moment, I understand what Natale saw in that picture; a glimmer of hope. It's everywhere, even in the hunger games. Even in my parents.

Miss Becket quietly waves us into the next room, which is a long wall, filled with the names of dead tributes. At the end of the wall stands my mother with a cameraman and a couple reporters shadowing her. I am surprised to see her, but even more surprised when she crosses the room to hug me. She whispers in my ear.

"I'm not too late to tell my story am I?" I look up at her in shock, then slowly shake my head. She gives a rare genuine smile.

"Good! A smart young lady once told me that my voice was important. She was right. I shouldn't leave my story up to someone else to tell." I smile back, happy that she listened to me and grateful she missed the part of my speech where I called her stupid.

We break apart as she turns her attention to the rest of the students.

"There is so much written about the living victors, but our stories are shared by others." She places a hand on the wall. "Those who did not make it out of the games are very much apart of our stories. They have a voice too." She tells a few stories about the tributes that influenced her during the hunger games including Rue, Thresh, Mags, Wiress and Maysilee Donner, the original owner of her Mockingjay pin. Suddenly a camera guy jumps out of an alcove and snaps a picture. When he turns to leave, the other reporters stop him. In that time, mom grabs his camera and ruins his film. He yells at her as he fights against the other reporters.

"Sorry." She replies with little remorse. "But you should have asked me rather then just jumping out and taking pictures. Who do you work for?"

The guy quickly shuts up. My mother just shrugs and hands him back his camera. When the reporters let him go he is slightly confused.

"Wait. That's it? You're just going to let me go?" The older reporter standing next to him replies.

"That kid. That right there is why you were not invited to this party. When you take pictures based on your assumption of a person, you end up with a smut story and a misleading photo. If you want quality work then you need to get to know the person. Then the picture feels more authentic." The younger man stares at the older reporter blankly before shaking his head and walking away. Mom just shakes her head and turns to the older gentleman.

"I guess there aren't any more reporters like you Stan." He steps in and gives my mother a pat on the shoulder.

"Darling why do you think I had to come out of retirement?" Mom laughs. "Besides you've kept me hanging for 25 years." At that mom laughs louder and shakes her head. She pulls Ms. Beckett aside leaving the older reporter entertains us.

"Kids do you know 25 years ago I asked Ms. Katniss to marry me?" Half of the students looked at me for a response.

"She got married 25 years ago." His eyes fall on me. The ends of his mustache seem to curl up as he gives me a wrinkled smile.

"Well my word. Aren't you just the spiting image of your mother when she was young." I blush as I realize, I am not mad that I remind him of my mother. He continues his story.

"There she was on her wedding day, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I told her there's still time to back out and marry me. And do you know what she said?" We all shook our heads. "She said, Nice try Stan, but I choose Peeta. It will _always_ be Peeta." The girls chorus an awww and the guys chuckle or roll their eyes. My mom walks over, completely oblivious to what just happened.

"Okay kids I have a little surprise for you. We have been invited to a Q & A session at the President's mansion with the president herself." Excitement tears through the group as we are led out of the museum by mom and Ms. Beckett.

We walk the three blocks to the mansion, cutting through the center square. I try to catch up with my mom but she is in such a hurry to get to the mansion that I end up walking with the camera crew. Stan tells me to take a closer look when we pass the center square monument. I run to the monument for a closer look. It was of a girl standing with a bow and arrow in hand, poised to strike. Despite the gashes and scars on her body, her expression remains fearless. I look down and read the plaque, then quickly back up spotting the braided hair and familiar facial features. Without a doubt, I know who this is.

"Mom!" I shout in excitement. My voice echoes in the square getting the attention of our entire group and a couple of strangers. The group quickly gathers behind me, realizing it is something important. My mother, though clearly not happy to do so, backtracks toward what I am looking at. When she is within earshot I blurt out.

"Look. It's you! You have a quote here and everything."

At first, she seems bothered by the monument, despite the excitement it creates in the group. The longer she stares the more it looks like she hates it. Finally, I take in where we are and put two and two together.

"Is this where it happened?" She gives a curt nod and looks away. I could tell she was trying to keep her composure, which makes me feel guilty for making her re-live the bomb.

The bomb! I had forgotten my plan from this morning. I need to make a plan and figure out what happened. I can't start, however until my classmates and mother are not focused on me. I quickly make an excuse to get us to the one person who would distract everyone.

"Oh no! Look at the time. We had better get going to the mansion. President Paylor is waiting for us."

When the group starts to walk, I catch up to my mom and slip my hand into hers. She looks at me for a moment, and then looks back ahead. I think that is as close to thank you as my mom gets. We walk wordlessly hand in hand until we get to the entrance. There is a short man in sleeked back hair and a black suit pacing in front of the door. When he sees us, his eyes light up and he practically runs to my mother.

"Mrs. Mellark!" His high voice ringing through the foyer. "We are so glad to have you and the students. President Paylor is waiting for you in the great office. Please follow me." The man moves smoothly through the hallways. His speed is misleading and we get to the office mostly out of breath.

The doors open and we enter into one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever seen in my life. There is a high domed ceiling with a large chandelier cascading down. The design accents on the ceiling and the walls, add to the grandeur of this room_._ There are plush leather seats across from a massive mahogany desk. There, behind the massive desk, sitting in a beautiful crush blue velvet chair is President Paylor. She looks up from her files and as she rises to meet us, two young men take the files she was studying and disappear.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is Katniss Mellark actually in the capitol!" She quickly rounds the desk to give mom and I hugs. "Dahlia!" She exclaims. How have you gotten so big? My it hasn't been almost 2 years since I have seen you has it?" I could only nod as she holds my chin in her hand, examining my face. Mom eventually speaks up.

"Yes Agusta. I have made it to the capitol and the world is not ending. It is so good to see you."

Ms. Agusta finally lets go of me and indicates to everyone to sit down. I try to subtly squeeze myself next to Asher. He realizes my shift once we are all seated. He gives me a curious look, but I don't start talking until the Q & A session begins.

"Asher, I need your help with something." He ignores me at first as he is trying to ask a question himself. I keep talking determined to catch his attention. "I need you to help me investigate the explosion this morning. I told everyone it was my fault but the truth is I'm not so sure." He looks at me a little annoyed by my distraction then returns to ignoring me.

"Fine." I think. "I'll do it myself." I can't hide my impatience as I fold my arms and tap my foot on the floor waiting for the session to end. When I make the mistake of looking up, I see my mother angrily glaring at me. I try to unfold my arms and sit up a little more, but the damage has been done.

"Dahlia." She calls me, interrupting the current question. "You look bored back there. Why don't you sit up here?" Trying to pretend like I thought of the idea on my own, I stand up and walk to the front chair. My gallant walk turns into a clumsy crash as I run right into the server rolling in the tea cart. I manage to knock both cups to the floor and spill the sugar bowel. His gives me a look of annoyance, but I become distracted by a familiar smell coming from the cart. Paylor calls to him."

"Don't worry about it Randolph we can use the cups we have over here." My mind is in overdrive as I think about where have I smelled that before. It isn't until he is pouring the dark liquid into a cup that my mind places it.

"Wait!" I call out. Everyone gives me a puzzled look as I rush up to the cart sitting between mom and Miss Agusta. I try to keep my voice low. "Don't drink that. I think there is something wrong with the tea." Miss Agusta looks at me, a little confused and mom just looks pissed. She replies through clinched teeth.

"Dahlia don't make a scene." I snap back at her now, just as annoyed.

"Do you think I would say something if I didn't think something was wrong?" She doesn't reply back, but I know if we were not in front of the other students, she would let me have it. I go for the only strategy that seems to work with my mom; quick and dirty responses.

"I think its poison." I don't wait for them to protest as I ramble on. "It's either corpozale or razole that smells like strong tea until you mix it with something else." I grab one of the dirty cups, pour in the tainted tea and start throwing in sugar and cream. "When you add in the right ingredient it changes the smell to…" Crap I realize I can't remember. It appears I also can't remember the reactive ingredient since nothing changes in the tea. Miss Agusta tries to explain.

"Dahlia there are different tea blends in the capitol. Some are much stronger then what they have in district 12."

I grab the honey, ignoring her nice explanation. If I am wrong then I'll just look like the freak people thought I was. At first the honey globs into the tea just like everything else. When I began to stir, the liquid suddenly changes to a pinkish color before returning to its oily black texture. A pungent aroma wafts up from the liquid. I take a step back and inhale the pungent smell; Roses.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I finally look up from the tea, to see Ms. Agusta completely unnerved and mother in a daze. Suddenly she snaps out of her daze, grabs my arm and pulls me out of the office. Once we were out of the office she spins me around to face her; grabbing hard to my arms.

"Was this morning an accident? I need to know." Temporarily stunned by her sudden aggressiveness, I don't respond until she shakes me in her impatience. "Dahlia, tell me. Are you sure it was an accident?" I blurt out the answer she wants to hear.

"Yes!" I yell. "It was my fault I did it."

If she heard me answer, she didn't show it. She went back into her daze. Finally she let go of me to cover her nose and mouth.

"Damn it! I can't think with this smell. It's everywhere. How do I get rid of the smell?" She couldn't hide the desperation in her voice.

I knew my mother hated roses but I did not put much thought into why, until now. It appears roses, just like so many other things, were linked to past memories she did not want to talk about. As I watch her slowly recompose herself, I start feeling very anxious to figure out who is behind all this. Without another word to me she walks back into the office. I stand there until the other students file out. Each giving me an accusing glare. Jane went so far as to mumble; "Way to go loser," as she passes by. They assume my stunt ended the session. Ms. Beckett and mom are the last out of the office and I automatically start walking behind them.

Long after mom and Ms. Beckett move to the front, I look up to realize how far I trail behind the group. That was when I'm aware of someone walking closely behind me. Assuming its Asher, I quickly turn around before he can scare me. I realize too late it's not him. The strange man grabs me before I can run. He pulls me close to his side and sticks something in my back.

"Don't yell or try to run and I won't hurt you. Just keep walking." I recognize the hoarse voice almost immediately. It is the strange man from the train and the hotel. Terror rises inside me as I take in my predicament. After I interrupted the Q&A session, none of the students care where I am. My mother is too wrapped up in her own world to even notice. No one would notice that I am missing until they get to the hotel. By then, who knows where I'll be. My last glimmer of hope fades when we turn down a side alley and I am officially separated from the group. We walk halfway down the alley before he turns to face me. I shrink back trying to put some distance in between us. I look around for a sign of someone, anyone, but there is no one beside the man with a gun.

"I don't want to hurt you." He finally says. The look on my face must read that I didn't believe him. "Really I don't. Look!" He lifts up a broomstick handle, which he used to push into my back. I feel a little relieved, but am still in an empty alley with a dangerous man by myself.

"I'll take you back to your hotel but you have to give your mother a warning." His voice is no longer the low growl from this morning, but more of a rich pleasant baritone. I look at his face expecting to see that death stare, but see gentle green eyes staring back at me instead. His high-speed rant breaks me out of my thoughts.

"Warn her that someone is trying to kill her." At that my head, shoots up and I give the strange man my undivided attention. He continues.

"I don't know who it is, I just know they are trying to pin it on me. I remember meeting your mom on the train. Eating lunch and then everything gets shiny until the peacekeepers handcuffed me at the hotel." I try to make sense of his story, but nothing seems to add up.

"I remember or I think I remember a voice, whispering things to me. They described your mom and convinced me that I hated her and wanted to see her dead. I don't know how long the whispering went on or how I got to the hotel. The peacekeepers told me what I had tried to do. Believe me I never want to hurt you or your mother." I finally find my voice to ask him a question.

"I don't understand. Why do they want to hurt her?"

He ignores my question and looks at his watch. He begins to walk again and indicates I should follow. We take a few more side streets and end up next to the hotel. I see my group coming towards the hotel from a street on the right. I turn to remind him that he didn't answer my question, but find I am now standing by myself. If not for the fact, I was separated from my group, I would have thought I imagined the whole conversation. I blend into the crowd, milling around the hotel, until I am able to follow my group into the hotel. As suspected no one noticed I was missing.

When we walk to the hotel restaurant to get dinner, I finally hear a familiar voice call me. This time when I turn around it is Asher. He wore a look of concern rather then the look of annoyance from earlier. It is not until he rushes up to me do I realize how shaken I am. Sensing my need for privacy he leads me over to the little alcove off of the lobby. We stand there for a few minutes as he waits for me to speak. That is one thing about Asher. He never bombards you with questions, but lets you speak at your own time. Finally I tell him everything. When I finally finish, I look up to see his grey eyes on me. He looks back with sympathy. Suddenly he hugs me. I don't realize how much I need it until I completely break down.

"Dahlia don't cry. We'll fix it. We'll come up with a plan."

I can hear the awkwardness in his voice as I cry into his chest. 10 minutes later when I had cried myself out, he has come up with a plan. He is going to create a distraction so I can slip into the main security office and take the list of conference guests. The plan seems easy until I am standing outside of the security office waiting for the officers to leave. I begin to wonder if Asher's distraction is going to be enough to get all these men to leave.

Suddenly walkie-talkies blare everywhere and the security officers run upstairs. They shut the door behind them but I easily pick the lock. A skill I learned from Uncle Haymitch. I had hoped it would be one large office, but as I open the door, I see the clutter of desks in the middle with three offices on the outer walls. I make a full survey of the area before finally deciding to start searching on the desks. I go straight for the most cluttered desk figuring they wouldn't miss the list amongst all the clutter. After some intense searching, I find a copy of the conference registration list. I stuff it in my bag and am about to rush out when I remember the conference IDs. Each attendee has their picture on it. There has to be a picture list somewhere. I look at the head of security's office and then down at my watch. How long have I been here? It has been almost ten minutes and I would really be pushing it. But someone is trying to kill my mother. What would a list of names mean without faces to go with them. The pictures are the last piece and I need them. Without any more hesitation I walk into the head of security's office.

The office is clean; military precision clean. Everything has a place. I give a huge exhale realizing that not only would I have to find the paper I would have to put everything back where I found it. "There's a method to this." I think to myself. The conference was this morning so it's probably filed away already. I walk around the desk and try the top drawer; locked. I am about to pick the lock when there is a knock on the door. I quickly duck down under the desk. "Chief?" The man pauses there waiting for an answer. He knocks again and I hold my breath trying not to make a sound. Finally he walks away and I exhale. Staying hidden behind the desk, I pick the lock, which opens all the drawers. The first only contains personal items. The second drawer however, contains event files. There, in the very front is the conference file. I rifle through it and find the picture list. Not wasting anymore time I stuff the list in my bag and shut the drawers. I run to the door and tentatively open it. I look for the man who had knocked but see the head of security instead. I quietly close the door and back into the middle of the office. No windows or other doors meant no way out. I could hide in the wardrobe but who knows how long I would be stuck there. I hear voices getting closer and make the decision to jump in the wardrobe. Squeezing my body into the cramped space proves difficult and I knock over half of the clothes hanging up. As is my luck, a coat tumbles out the door of the wardrobe causing me to have to reach for it. The voices are now right outside the door and I can distinctly hear the booming voice of the head of security. Crap! I reach one more time and finally grab hold of the jacket. The door opens as I am leaning halfway out of the closet. I hold my breath and try to pull everything in before being seen. The head of security seems more interested in his new collar then the decor and doesn't notice the quiet closing of his closet door.

"Have these kids gone crazy?" He exclaims to no one in particular.

I observe the chief through a small hole in the closet door. He walks around to sit at the desk as a boy is thrown into the room behind him. The hole doesn't allow me to see who he is, but I see the cuffs holding his hands behind his back.

The head of security stares at the boy for a full minute before speaking. "So let me get this straight. You and your buddies skinny dipped in the pool then streaked through the hotel because someone dared you?" I see the boy shift his arms uncomfortably before replying.

"Yes sir."

My ears perk at the voice but I am not fully sure if I heard it correctly. All doubt was erased when the boy gave his name.

"It's Asher Hawthorne sir."

I quickly cover my mouth, to prevent my gasp from being heard. This was Asher's plan? To streak through the hotel! He didn't think how his plan could get him and the other boys in trouble. The head of security takes out some kind of report and begins to write feverishly. He occasionally looks up, ask a question then continues writing. Half way through the second page he pauses.

"Hawthorne, Hawthorne." He ponders the name a little more before looking at Asher again.

"One of your relatives Gale Hawthorne?"

I grimace knowing what the answer might mean. School punishment is bad but Asher's dad is tougher. If he finds out about what happened, he will ship him off to PK or peacekeeper camp for sure. Asher finally answers hesitantly.

"Yes sir. General Hawthorne is my father." The chief nods thoughtfully before replying.

"Good man your father. I served under him for 5 years. He has saved the lives of many officers." He pauses in his story and I assume that Asher is nodding in agreement.

"Yes great general but very tough." The Chief thinks a bit longer before taking the incident report and ripping it up. "I will let you go with a warning this time, but you better keep your nose clean for the rest of your trip." Asher lets out an audible sigh of relief.

"Thank you sir. I will" I finally relax as well knowing that Asher will not get in trouble. My relief however is short lived as the head of security offers Asher some clothing to wear when he goes back upstairs. The chief gets up and walks towards the wardrobe, which sets me in a panic. There is nowhere else to go and I am officially out of escape ideas.

I try to stand up in the closet, but lose my balance. My body hits the side of the closet and my elbow hits the door, causing a loud thud.

"What was that? As the chief looks for the origin of the sound I watch the door creep open. The door gets Asher's attention but when he sees I'm in the closet he pales. I guess even Asher is out of ideas. The chief's booming voice brings him back to reality.

"Did that come from the closet?" Asher nods his confirmation.

"Something must have fallen and knocked the door open." He says it so logically and matter of fact, the chief does not question his reasoning. I hear the chief's heavy footsteps coming closer to the wardrobe when Asher interrupts again.

"Ah sir. I appreciate you offering me clothes but can you unlock the cuffs first? It will make it much easier to put on a shirt.

"Oh yes of course." He turns and walks back to the desk. Where he and Asher begin a game of where is the key. Asher gives me the okay to climb out. I quickly get out, rush to the door and open it, as if I had just walked in. I knock on the door for extra effect. The head of security looks up to see me standing in the door.

"I'm so sorry." I say shyly. "No one was around to ask so I just came back hoping you were free." My eyes dart to Asher and for the first time I realize he is standing there in just a towel. It makes me blush. I add.

"I'll come back later." The chief very aware of my discomfort, replies slightly exasperated.

"What can I do for you Miss Mallerk?" Thinking quickly I reply.

"My mother would like the security tape." He studies me for a second before replying.

"We were under the impression that this morning's incident was your chemistry error." If possible my blush deepens more as I give a half-truth.

"There was an incident that occurred while we visited the President...someone poisoned her tea. The incidents might not be unrelated, but..." We stand there in silence until he finally replies.

"Very well I'll get the tape and the extra set of keys. A few minutes later Asher and I enter the elevator, freed, fully clothed and stocked with everything we need. I am too afraid to speak until we get to his room. When there I finally let loose.

"Did we really just do that?" I turn to Asher who is doing some strange victory dance. He finally turns to me and let's out a, 'Woohoo.' I laugh but cant help getting caught up in his enthusiasm. I join in his victory dance and soon we're both jumping around laughing, giving celebratory high fives. I give him a hug and mutter thanks. He responds back with a squeeze of his own. We start going back and forth trying to squeeze the air out of each other until he lifts me off the ground.

"You win! You win!" I screech. He slowly lowers me to the ground and as my feet touch the floor I look up to see his face barely inches from my own. Without thinking, I rise up on my tip-toes and kiss him.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The quick peck startles him and he lets me go quickly. I kick myself for getting carried away. I try to mumble a reasonable excuse to leave with a little dignity.

"I ah have to…" Asher presses his lips to mine to drown out my excuse. This time he initiates it. I follow his more experienced lips in a slow give and take before we finally break apart. When I look up, he has a stupid grin on his face, a grin I know I share.

"Stop grinning at me like that!" He laughs.

"You, stop grinning at me!" I reply before I break out in giggles. Soon we're both laughing uncontrollably. True, it's not how I thought my first kiss would end but it seems right with Asher. When we finally compose ourselves, Asher looks down at my bag.

"We should probably look over this stuff before my room mates get back from the pool party." I nod and start taking out all the materials.

We start going over both lists, comparing the name and title of each competition guest to their picture. More specifically, Asher went over the lists and I just stared at him. In my defense, it's really hard to concentrate when you have a guy that looks like him sitting next to you. He's tall, tanned and gorgeous. Long and lean, but still muscular. His hair is unruly but in a 'hot guy' way. He has piercing gray eyes, lips that are now moving and an expectant expression like he just asked me a question. Crap!

"Of course!" I say, quickly answering his question and pretending like I've been paying attention all along. He gives me a curious look.

"I asked you what the guy looked like." I feel myself blush a shade of red that flavius' hair would envy.

"Oh, of course," I finally eek out. "He was tall. Brown hair with really, really dark eyes…" As I continue to describe the guy from the alleyway, Asher continues to narrow down the picture list until I spot him.

"There!" I stab the picture. "That's him!"

We stare at the picture for a minute, then look at his name and job description. His name is Edgard Tittle, an electronics developer.

"He works for Mr. Beetee." Asher finally comments. I look up in surprise but quickly remember, his father worked with Mr. Beetee for years.

"I could call him if you like?" He continues. "Maybe figure out what he is like." I shake my head.

"No way. If we call, then he'll definitely call my mom or your dad." At the mention of his dad, Asher immediately shakes his head. We try to think of another plan but nothing seems feasible. We soon give up and watch the security tape, but even that yields little results.

"So a guy in a suit and not on this list came up to my presentation." Asher nods. "But he doesn't take anything. He just touches the cabinet handle and then walks away." Asher nods again. "So now we have two guys that we don't know where they are or what they might do next. What do we do now?" He lets out a huge exhale before looking into my eyes.

"Dahlia, I think its time to tell your mom." I want to protest, but finally admit to myself that this is way over my head. I put my head in my hands and shake my head.

"You're right. She is going to be so mad at me for hiding this."

I think about the 7 kinds of anger my mother will go through when I tell her. That is probably nothing compared to how disappointed my father will be or how over protective Aunt Joanna will become. Maybe having my own PK detail won't be so bad. It would make it much harder for Jane to pick on me.

The one problem is, having to tell my mother. That definitely WILL be bad. I start to think of ways to delay the conversation including staying another night with Queen Jane, when Asher gently grasps my hands. I look up at him and immediately forget my nerves.

"I'll go with you if you want." He kisses me again and it takes me a second to remember how to speak.

"Aah….no, that's okay. You've gotten in enough trouble because of me."

I give a little smile of assurance and stuff the lists and the footage into my bag. Before I leave, I reach up to kiss him one more time. He surprises me by gently opening my lips and slipping his tongue into my mouth. We kiss until we have to pull apart for air. I look at him and he is wearing that same stupid grin. I smile as I open the door and leave.

My mother may yell, my father may be disappointed and I may never be able to go to the bathroom again without a security detail, but kissing Asher Hawthorne makes it SO worth it!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

My good mood lasts all the way to my mother's hotel room. The moment I open the door, I am transported to my mother's world of crazy. She is yelling on the communicator while throwing both her clothes and mine into suitcases.

"Joanna I'm telling you something is not right. This is just how it started before….No I'm not over reacting…What? I don't remember doing that…"

I clear my throat to get her attention. She looks up at me and frowns before returning back to her conversation.

"Have to go. Think about what I said. I didn't get this far in life without having good instincts." She clicks off and then whips her head around to me. "Where have you been?"

'Great.' I think. Starting this conversation when she's already pissed is not a good idea. I decide to answer back with another question.

"Are we going somewhere?" I say with the same short tone. She glares at me before responding.

"You didn't answer my question!"

"You didn't answer MY question."

"Dahlia! Oh for…" She takes a deep calming breath and counts to ten before continuing. 'Hooray for anger management,' I think to myself.

"There have been too many coincidences today. Your presentation, Augusta's tea; it just doesn't feel right. So I've decided we're leaving early."

I do a little celebration dance in my head, realizing that I don't have to tell my mother about the threat. There's no capitol threat against my mother if we are not here. I hide my happiness with the best deadpan voice I can muster.

"Okay." I say.

"Okay?" She asks back, questioning how easy that went. "We're leaving on the first train out after breakfast."

"Okay." I say again before walking to my suitcase to grab my pajamas. I head into the bathroom to shower and change, leaving my mother standing dumbfounded.

When I finish drying my hair, I'm met with the wonderful smell of food. My stomach growls as a reminder that I skipped dinner so I follow the smell into the room. There is a plate waiting for me. I look at my mother, surprised.

"Chocolate chip pancakes with rasberry sauce!" I exclaim. She smiles as she sits down to join me at the table.

"I remember them being your favorite when you were little." I nod as the memories of this late night treat flood my mind. I realize however in my memories, my mother is not there. I look back at her.

"Dad always made these for me. How…"

"Did I know?" She finishes. I nod and she sighs before responding. "I was never the cook or the one with good advice. The best thing for me to do was just watch."

I shake off feeling sad for my mother. I'm sure if he wanted to, she could have joined in. Instead of voicing my thoughs, I change the subject.

"There's a piece missing."

"I had to check if it was okay." My head whips up as I realize what would have happened if they were poisoned. She just smiles back. "It's a mom thing. Now eat."

As I eat, my mother surprises me by telling the story of how dad got the nickname, _The boy with the bread_. To me, the story was extremely sad but my mother seemed to look back on it fondly. When she finishes I finally ask.

"So is that why hunting is so important to you?" She nods slowly while she ponders my question.

"Yes I guess. It was our livelihood, my way to relax and…the way…I survived the games."

At that I can only stare. My mother talking about her past AND mentioning the hunger games never happens. Heck, my mother and I talking about anything that doesn't end in a fight is rare. Without knowing what else to do, I grab her hand.

"Look mom…you don't have to talk about your past again. I understand if it's too much…"

She squeezes my hand and gives me a small smile back.

"Sweetheart, not everything in my past is sad. I used to think there was no chance of having a normal life; a life where my family would not go hungry or my children would be safe from reapings. Your father had such hope that things would change and he was right. The day I married your father and the births of you and your brother are the happiest days of my life."

I look up at my mom, and see the sincerity in her face. I quickly jump out of my chair and hug her. We stay like that for a few minutes before we fall into conversation. When I finish my pancakes she repeats the question she asked when I first came in. In the spirit of our night of sharing and honesty I tell her the truth…sort of.

"I went to the pool party…and then I went with Asher to talk." I shrug matter of factly, but my mother's eyes widen. She stares at me before speaking again.

"What did you two talk about?" I feel the blush start to creep up my face as I answer.

"Just…stuff. Nothing serious."

Suddenly she grabs my hands and guides me over to the bed. We sit down slightly facing each other. She takes a deep exhale as if she's about to break really bad news.

"Dahlia, darling you talking with a boy is very serious. When we get to a certain …er… age…relationships…change. You know between a boy and a girl." I stare at her blankly as I try to figure out where this conversation is going. "You and Asher were friends but you may start to feel something…more." My jaw drops as it finally hits me. Mom stutters and blushes a bit herself as she trudges through. "These…er… feelings can feel like…like…love but…" 'Oh God, kill me now!' I think. Never did I think my mother would give me 'The Talk', but here we are. I shake my head frantically as she continues. "Well…when a man and a woman love each other…"

"Stop! Mom, please stop! We kissed alright? That's it. We didn't…ugh!" I throw myself back on the bed and put a pillow over my face to hide my embarrassment. My mother tries to sputter out an excuse.

"Well when you said you talked… I thought that meant more like…Isn't that what kids say now a days about…"

"No mom they don't!" I yell taking the pillow off my head. She turns her head away as I sit up. I try to calm down realizing this is just as mortifying for her as it is for me. I finally pour out half the story.

"We did talk, but it ended with a kiss." I smile at the memory. "It was my first real kiss…so…I'm not really ready for the other stuff yet."

She looks back at me with a small smile. We share an awkward moment where she's not sure if she wants to hug me or keep her distance. She compromises with patting my hand.

"When did you grow up?" She says with a laugh. She touches my face in wonder. "I guess you are not my little _Dahl baby_ anymore."

I smile at hearing my childhood nickname. Swiftly, I close the distance between us with a hug. I snuggle my head into her shoulder before replying.

"I'll always be your Dahl baby." Without another word we settle into bed. As she is about to turn off the light, I look at her with concern.

"Mom. Will you be okay tonight?" I was afraid to bring up her nightmares but she didn't seem to mind.

"I think I'll be fine sweetheart. Nothing but good memories tonight."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

I woke up in the morning, not to my mother's screaming but her singing. She has a beautiful voice but she rarely sings. I lay there listening for a while, before sitting up. It is then I notice she's already dressed.

"Oh no! Did I wake up late?" I jump up and start to rustle through my suitcase for an outfit. I am halfway to the bathroom when my mother finally speaks.

"Dahlia, relax. I'm going to the President's mansion before we leave to meet with Paylor. It will be a quick meeting and I will be back by the time you finish eating breakfast." I freshen up and get dressed in record time.

"I'm ready. I'm coming with you and I'm not taking no for an answer." Her eyebrows raise in surprise as she turns to look at me standing with my hands on my hips.

"You're a stubborn little thing aren't you?" She states with curiousity.

"I guess I'm like my mother in that way." At that she lets out a genuine laugh.

"Yes. You come from a long line of stubborn Everdeen women…" Her voice fades as I turn to pack my suitcase.

"Tuck in your shirt." She says quietly. I look down before quickly replying.

"It is tucked in." I hear her come up behind me and tuck in the back of my shirt. When I turn and look at her, something has changed. The fun, open, caring woman I saw last night, is gone. In her place is the emotionally distant being I know as my mother and she does not look pleased.

"You're not going with me." I try to protest but she just puts up her hands. "I said you're not going. Besides you still need to finish packing and I am not going to wait for you and chance being late." I angrily glare at her but my expression doesn't seem to faze her. When she gets to the door she turns around again.

"I will be no more then two hours. Be packed and ready to go when I get back." Without another word she turns and leaves.

Short, not so sweet and bluntly to the point; that's the mother I know. I start throwing things into my suitcase, still angry with my mother. When I finish, I find the suitcase does not close. It takes another fifteen minutes to repack my suitcase in order to close it. Even then, I am using my big handbag for extra storage. Dumping out half the bag's contents, including the lists and tapes from yesterday still will not make everything fit.

"Screw it." I finally yell frustrated. "I'll grab breakfast and finish when I get back."

Breakfast ends up being a tepid affair. Most of my classmate's attitudes haven't changed about me since yesterday's incident at the President's mansion so I sit by myself. Jane and her wannabes take the opportunity to harass me.

"I'm surprised you'll eat anything here, seeing as you think everything in the capitol is poison." Jane sneers as she plops down next to me. I try to ignore her as I continue to eat my breakfast. Suddenly she takes all the condiments off the table and begins pouring them into my drink.

"No, that doesn't do anything." She says mockingly as she dumps sugar in. "Funny, neither does this or this." She adds in salt, pepper, ketchup and honey to the laughs and cheers of the other girls. I start to get angry, but once again, I can't seem to muster the courage to stand up for myself. Finally, when I am close to tears, I see Asher approaching the table.

"That's enough Jane." He says with such authority that Jane and her minions stop laughing immediately. Jane and Asher glare at each other, until she finally turns away.

"Looks like little Dahlia's babysitter is here. Lets go girls."

She stands up and leaves, but not before knocking her concoction onto my plate. Asher rushes over to try to save some of it, but I stop him.

"Leave it. I'm finished anyway."

He points at Jane walking away.

"You can't let her bully you like that." I laugh out loud and glare at him.

"Just like I needed to reach out and make friends? I did and where are they now." I look around for emphasis.

He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before conceding. We sit there in silence until he changes the subject.

"How did the talk go with your mom?" I didn't want to admit to him that I never told her; to admit that I couldn't even stand up to my mother. I just shook my head.

"We're leaving today. As soon as she gets back from her meeting with President Paylor." I give a shrug. "It's the best way to avoid trouble." Asher shakes his head.

"Somehow, I don't think your leaving early will keep you out of trouble."

I laugh off his comment as we ease into more comfortable conversation. 5 minutes in, my thoughts begin to drift back to last night. Feelings of the adventure, the closeness and the kisses we shared flood my body and cause butterflies in my stomach. My lips tingle as I watch his mouth turn up into an easy smile. I am soon very aware of how close we are sitting and how goofy I look with a huge grin on my face.

"What?" He finally asks me. I blush and shake my head before replying.

"Nothing. I just…was thinking about last night. That's all." Suddenly he takes his hand off the table and shifts away from me. I look at him and somehow know what's coming.

"Look Dahlia. You're a great kid but I don't think it's a good idea to really start something."

'Kid;' the word feels like a slap in the face. I try to keep the tears from welling up as he continues. "I mean I'm graduating soon and I'm going into PK camp a couple weeks after that…"

"PK camp? You want to be a peace keeper?" I say with more disdain then I intend.

"Yeah! What's it to you?" He answers back defensively.

I begin to feel tears stinging the corner of my eyes and quickly decide to leave before I cry in public.

"It means nothing to me I guess. Seeing how little I mean to you."

I get up from the table, turn on my heels and head for the exit, searching for the comfort, the outdoors usually provides. Once outside however, I'm met by the loudness and bustle of the city. A flash of light, coming out of nowhere, temporarily blinds me. As my eyes recover, I start to decipher the loud noises and bright flashes coming from reporters.

"Dahlia, what is it like to have famous parents?" One reporter yells.

"…How is it being the mockinjay's daughter?

"….do you feel your life is in danger?"

"Is it true your father's prosthetic leg is decaying." Feeling completely overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of questions, I start to mutter answers.

"My father's leg is fine. How…how…do you know my name? My parents…"

"Is that your boyfriend?" I turn around to see Asher a few feet behind me.

He looks away from me blushing, but I soon realize he's not just turning away, he's looking at a very familiar man retreating down a side street. I rush after him with Asher following close behind me. The reporters try to follow but they are held at bay by hotel security.

We follow him down streets, through alleyways and around so many corners that I start to lose sense of where I am. Finally we get to a row of beautiful brownstone houses. We see him walk up the stairs and enter a particularly ornate looking house. We stop at the bottom of the stairs looking at the open door the once mysterious man had walked through.

"He had to know we were following him." Asher whispers. I nod in agreement. We stand there a little while longer until he says aloud the question I have been asking myself.

"So do we go in?"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

In the past two days I have been teased, yelled at, sabotaged and threatened for reasons known only to the man who went through that door. Even if I was not a curious person, his odd connection to my life recently would make him someone I had to meet. Is it the best idea to follow him? Probably not, but I've come this far. Besides I really don't care about anything right now.

I finally turn to Asher who watched me as I ran through my thoughts. His nervousness strengthens my resolve.

"I don't know about you, but _I am_ going in." I walk up two stairs before turning around to add. "Perhaps it's better that you don't participate in my childish affairs." Almost immediately, he starts climbing the stairs after me. We walk over the threshold together and into a dark foyer. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but as soon as they do I spot him standing in the corner. He is once again disheveled, his clothes now tattered and torn. As he steps out of the shadow, I see his eyes are frightful, large black orbs. I fight the urge to run when he growls at us.

"I told you to warn your MOTHER!" He snarls at me.

"I did." I reply, in order to continue my lie. He takes a step towards us and Asher deftly moves in front of me.

"If you did then why are you still in the capitol? Why is she meeting with Paylor?" He spits out Paylor's name in such a contemptible way, it immediately makes me think he had something to do with the poison.

"Mr. Tittle…sir, please calm down…" Asher says calmly. Tittle jumps out at us then immediately takes a step back.

"Calm down! You wouldn't tell me that if you knew what they are capable of doing; what they are planning." His dark eyes shoot back and forth between us. "They wont survive. None of them will. There are no victors this time."

Fear clenches me as I step forward.

"Please, Mr. Tittle what are you saying?" At my desperate look, I begin to see his aggressive posture fade and his eyes start to soften. He digs something out of his pocket and offers it to Asher. He takes it clearly confused, but before he asks Mr. Tittle responds.

"I'm afraid my young friends that you will be the first to know. _Good night gracie_."

At his last command, the front door slams shut behind us and I am suddenly paralyzed. I realize I can't move or scream. I can only stare as Mr. Tittle turns and walks out of the room. Suddenly there is a bright light and I feel as if my body is being ripped in two by forces pulling me apart. The pain grows to an unbearable agony until I can take no more and my world goes black.

I arrive back at the hotel, rattled but doing my best not to show it. My well-practiced, camera-ready smile is on as I walk through the line of reporters, sign autographs in the lobby and joke in the elevator. As soon as I am alone, I turn to face the elevator mirror to repeat my adage.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen Mallerk. I am from District 12. I am in the capitol but the games are over; the rebellion's over."

'Games are over Katniss…'

'Rebellion is over Katniss…'

As soon as the elevator doors open again, the smile is back.

"Good morning gentlemen. Is my daughter back yet?"

"No Mrs. Mallerk. She left for breakfast at _O eight-hundred hours_ and has not returned. She appeared…angry ma'am."

I give them both an appreciative nod before stepping inside. As soon as the door closes behind me, I release a shaky breath. The meeting with Paylor did nothing but add to my concerns about an unknown threat. She has a mole. After she announced to her cabinet, she was stepping down next year, unexplained disappearances and other strange things started to occur. Recent reports she was given also show signs of rebellious activity. Her fear, now not unfounded, is someone in her cabinet is capitalizing off the information they know. Information they're using to plan a radical change in government control.

Paylor admitted telling her cabinet casually that Katniss was returning to the capitol. 'All of them knew I was coming to the capitol, but the question was, who knew Dahlia was coming with me?'

I ponder the question while looking over at the mess Dahlia left on the bed. I smile, temporarily appreciating her normal teenage quirks. The junkie room, the tons of gossip magazines, even our little fights are better then living in constant fear of her getting reaped and having to endure a hunger game. The thought reminds me of how desperately I try to keep her safe and away from danger. She however, desperately wants to be apart of all the danger. Our conversation from this morning replays in my mind. That stupid shirt and the silly tail would not stay in, just like… The thought is still too painful to finish, but it reminds me what happens when I fail to protect the ones I love.

'I'd rather you be angry at me and safe then in danger.' I say to her stuff as if somehow she'll hear me.

I take out an extra bag and begin to drop her things into the bag. My hand stills over two large packets. Rifling through the chaos a little more reveals a small, dated tape. 'Dahlia Rue what have you been up to?' I think to myself as I pop in the video. The video shows the moments before the convention. I spot her booth at the bottom left of the screen. I smile as I watch her carefully organizing her presentation. She begins to look for something. When I walk into the shot, I realize it's when she lost the rodouba root. After I walk away, I see her go over to talk to Asher. I eye their interaction with interest until my attention is drawn back to Dahlia's booth. A man calmly approaches the booth, touches the cabinet and walks away. I review that part a couple more times before realizing he was careful enough to avoid the cameras. Now interested, I forward through the tape, looking for the man again. I spot him right before the cabinet explodes. He can't help but look out in pride at the chaos he has brought. At that moment I freeze the tape and stare at his face. My mind refusing to believe what my eyes are seeing. I feel the wind being knocked out of me as I come to a startling conclusion.

My body starts to move before my mind registers all that has to be done. I open the door and command one peacekeeper to get the security chief and the other to find Dahlia. I rush to my communicator and quickly contact Paylor. When she finally clicks over, I don't give her time to ask what's going on before I start shouting.

"Paylor I know who the mole is…we have all been compromised!"


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"_Dahlia…Dahlia…"_ I hear Asher call my name. It sounds like a soft lullaby from his lips. I move towards his voice, but the closer I get the heavier I feel. I feel some gentle shaking and hear his voice again.

"Dahlia wake up." I hear him say urgently. With a groan I finally come to.

As I glance up at him, I see relief flood his face. I look past him and start to take in our surroundings. There are trees everywhere, the faint chirping of birds and a blue grey sky. I look back at him confused.

"Are we in the forest back home?"

"I dunno." He replies looking around himself.

"How…how did we get here?" He looks back at me with uncertainty.

"One minute we're in an old house, the next we're out here…I think…we were teleported." I look at him with shock.

"How? Teleportation is the stuff of fiction. It's not possible." I look around again and then down at my body. "We are here though."

We brush ourselves off and start to stand up, but before we have a chance to look around two arrows come flying at us.

"Get down!" Asher yells as he drags me back to the ground. From our position on the ground, we try to spot where the arrows are coming from. Asher finally points slightly to our right.

"I think they're coming from over there. We're going to run in the opposite direction in a zig zag motion." I merely nod, too scared to speak. "On my count…1…2…3!"

Asher shoots off and I run right behind him. As we run, more arrows come flying past us. We keep running like our lives depend on it, because frankly, they do. Around 15 minutes after the arrows have stopped flying, I begin to get tired. I try to focus on other things to keep moving, like Asher's physique. Between playing for our school's ball team and helping my dad in the bakery, he's built up great musculature. Staring at how his muscles ripple and shine under a sheen of sweat and sunrays keeps me distracted for almost another mile. Eventually, not even that can keep me going. I stop gasping for breath.

"Please…_gasp_…stop run…_gasp_…running so…_gasp_…fast." I eek out.

Asher backtracks and guides me to rest behind a tree. While I try to catch my breath, he looks around, searching for something.

"Asher, we're not in district 12 woods. Where are we? What's going on?" He looks around again before answering.

"I have a hunch but, I'm not completely sure."

We rest for a few more minutes before heading off at a much slower pace. This time Asher appears to search for something. I try not to distract from his concentration but I seem to step on every twig and loud piece of brush. He turns back to me, trying to hide his annoyance.

"Can you walk a little more quietly? Who knows what else is out here."

I look down and mumble an apology, now wishing I had better hunting skills. I felt totally useless. I had no idea what we were looking for or how to go about finding it. My sole contribution was to keep quiet and follow along, which I was having a lot of trouble doing. I kept my eyes on the ground trying not to step on anything loud or fall too far behind. My eyes happen to roam across a rope and I reflexively reach for Asher. He stops and turns around again, this time clearly annoyed.

"What is it now?" I point to the rope.

"I think it's a trap."

His gaze follows my finger to the rope. He grabs a stick and cautiously clears the leaves around it. He only has to clear half of the leaves before we see it is a trap. By the size of it, it could easily fit a bear or both of us. I laugh at the thought. Asher looks at me curiously before I can explain.

"The trap its huge. It's human size like we're being…" I pale as my brain suddenly puts the pieces together. I didn't notice that I had started to hyperventilate until Asher puts his hands on my shoulder. I grab his hands and yell.

"We're being hunted! Whoever did this, they're hunting us." I notice that Asher has barely listened to a word I said. Instead he's looking at a point off to my left. I turn to check out what he's looking at. In between the trees, I spot a clearing with a huge dome that has gear and supplies surrounding it. Realization crashes down on me as Asher finally whispers.

"I think…think we're in the Hunger Games."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

'This can't be happening…this can't be happening.' I whisper to myself over and over again. Ever since Asher's realization, I have been plopped on the forest floor trying to wake up from what I hope is the most vivid nightmare I have ever had. Asher has been talking non-stop about what we should do and who else might be here, but I have long stopped listening. A jab to the ribs with a stick takes me out of my daze.

"Ouch!" I glare up at Asher but he looks back unapologetically.

"We have to get supplies, weapons, food and water. We don't know how long we'll be here." I just nod at him indifferently. "You're going to have to help…you know…pull your weight." I nod again, understanding what he's asking but doubting I can do it.

"I'm not my mother." I whisper, wishing for the first time in a very long time that I was more like her. His gaze softens a bit and he helps me to my feet.

"Well…just try, okay." He finally says.

We walk toward the clearing deciding on a plan. We decide to make a run for the dome and hide inside if there is anyone else out there. The plan sounds simple enough so I agree to it.

"On my count…" Asher says as we get to the edge of the clearing. "1…2…3!" We sprint forward, trying to watch out for other people or flying arrows. The danger however is right in front of us. Suddenly Asher sinks into the ground. He signals for me to stop before I get too close. He turns towards me and uses the stick to help get him out. I help pull him out the rest of the way and he collapses on the ground exhausted.

"Now I get why there is no one else out here." He nods in agreement.

"It's quicksand, but the ground must be okay by the dome." He thinks a bit longer. "It's about 20 feet from here to there. How far can you jump?" I look at him skeptically.

"Not 20 feet! If I have a running head start, I might get to 11?" He looks back at the sand thoughtfully before finally saying.

"I have an idea." The more I listened to his plan, the crazier it sounded. Since I did not have any better ideas however, I agreed. The plan was for him to jump half way. Then I would use him as a stepping-stone to jump the rest of the way. Once there, I could find rope and pull him in. The first part was easy enough. Asher jumped to the middle of the quicksand pond and promptly began to sink. As soon as he was up to his hips in quicksand he signaled for me to jump. I ran and jumped towards his hands. The little bounce he gave me was enough to rebound me over the second part of the quicksand. The moment I think Asher's plan works, arrows come flying out of nowhere. One hits me in the arm and I crash to the ground by the dome. I cry out at the unbearable searing pain radiating from my arm. As I try to will myself to calm down and focus, I hear Asher's yells. He looks scared but I can't make out what he's saying. I realize that he has already sunk up to his chest. My heart pounds as I'm paralyzed by pain and fear. I look into Asher's gray eyes and suddenly my mind tells me what my heart already knows; 'You care about him too much to lose him.'

I jump into action and begin to crouch walk around to find rope. Every little move of my arm sends pain through my whole body. Thinking of Asher is all I can do to ignore the pain and keep going. I move from pack to pack without any luck. I look back at Asher and he's up to his neck. His head and arms are lifted up to keep him above ground for as long as possible but if I don't find rope soon he'll be completely submerged. I finally move around behind the dome and find a bag with rope. A few more arrows fly and I dive to the ground, not wanting to get hit again. When I come back around, he's taking a deep breath before his mouth and nose go under. I try to make a lasso as quickly as possible, but find the arrow has slowed my hand coordination. As I throw the rope, we give each other one last look before his head goes under. The rope sails and lands inches in front of his right arm. I realize too late however that he can't see it.

'Asher please move your arms.' I beg.

Finally in an attempt to get out of the quicksand, his arms push forward, making contact with the rope. As soon as he grabs the rope, I start pulling with every bit of strength I have. I see his eyes and then the rest of his head reappear before I get into a zone. Shutting everything out, I just focus on pulling. In addition to my arm, the rest of my body protests the excess load. I ignore all sensations and don't give up until I hear Asher panting beside me. Finally, I collapse exhausted, and in agony. I feel Asher's arms tuck under me and pull me into the safety of the dome. He kneels in front of me, now completely muddy.

"Are you okay?" I ask him. He gives me a small smile.

"I think I should ask you that." He looks to the arrow still stuck in my arm. "Can I take it out?" I nod and guide him through removing the arrow, then applying pressure to slow the bleeding. At his insistence, I help him make a sling for me too. He takes a step back and looks at his handy work approvingly. Then he looks back at me.

"That worked. You're really good teacher…about medical stuff." I blush at the compliment.

"If it means anything. I think you're going to be a good peacekeeper. You were really in control." He laughs and takes a seat next to me. I do my best not to drool as he removes his muddy shirt.

"My father will be very glad to hear that. His money sending me to PK boot camp every summer has been well spent." I look at him in shock.

"Boot camp? I thought that was for kids who misbehaved."

"Yeah and for sons whose father's think they need to toughen up." He tries to look angry but his face falls as he whispers. "He doesn't think I could take care of the family…you know…if something happens to him." I look at him with pity.

My mother may be tough but she's never put that kind of pressure on me. I think about our conversation from earlier.

"Do you want to be a peacekeeper?" I ask quietly. He thinks before finally shaking his head no.

"I don't know what I want to do I guess…" He tries to shake off his thought. "But my father's right. I can have a solid career as a peacekeeper." He quickly changes the subject. "Come on we have to get moving."

We stand up and walk further into the dome. We gather plenty of supplies, and some warmer clothes, but can't find food or water. There are plenty of bows and quivers full of arrows but no other weapons.

"Nothing!" Asher yells out in frustration. "No other weapons, just stupid bows and arrows." I look at them thoughtfully and throw a theory out.

"Asher do you think its strange that there are no other weapons?" He gives me a look of 'duh.' "Also that we were hunted in woods, similar looking to district 12, by only arrows. It's just too convenient…" He throws up his hands.

"Spit it out Mallerk. What are you saying?" Cutting to the point, I reply.

"This game is about my mother. It was built for her." He thinks about it, then pulls out something from his pocket. I take and wipe the mud off the two pills. I look at them and realize immediately what they are.

"Nightlock." The longer we stand there, the longer both of us realize, my theory may be right. I look up at Asher. "Do you think this is our only way out of here?" He takes the pills and tosses them out of the dome, towards the quicksand. When he turns back, he has a look of steely determination.

"We will get out of this." He says firmly. I nod matching his determination.

What a few hours of wandering around the forest hungry and thirsty will do to steely determination. My legs are tired, my arm is excruciatingly painful and I'm cranky with nothing to eat or drink. Okay maybe cranky is a bit modest. I am downright bitchy and stopped caring 4 miles ago. I stop and rest for the 10th time, not even bothering to tell Asher I stopped. It takes him 10 minutes to realize I am not behind him and backtrack. As soon as I see him coming back through the bushes, I yell.

"It took you that long to realize I was missing?"

"I knew you weren't behind me when I stopped hearing you whine. I was just enjoying the peace and quiet."

I open and close my mouth a couple of times, now speechless. Even if I deserved the snarky comments I was in no mood to hear them. I discard my sling to gather my supply bag, bow and quiver and start walking in another direction.

"Where are you going?" He calls after me.

"Away. So you can have all the peace and quiet you need."

He follows me, calling for me to come back. He even adds in a half-hearted apology, which I ignore. I walk until I realize that Asher has suddenly stopped, talking, moving, everything. I swing around fearing the worst, but instead see him there trapped by an invisible barrier. When I head back towards him he waves frantically for me to stop. I stop and watch as he takes an arrow and lifts it up to the barrier. The arrow sparks before he pulls it back. He makes his way around the barrier to find an end. As he circles around, I quickly realize that I am the one who is trapped. Suddenly I hear the flapping of wings behind me. When I look up, I notice at least 20 mutated birds have settled in the trees above. Their presence makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. They remind me of mockingjays, but they're not. 'They are Jabberjays' I realize. They don't move but neither do I. I decide to take a small step forward. As soon as my foot hits the ground 20 bird's heads twist and stare right at me.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The birds' eyes follow every step I take. I move slow and keep eye contact not knowing what is going to happen next. Spotting a tree in my peripheral, I slowly move towards it. I might not know what will happen but I know I want protection from it. Unexpectedly, the birds open their mouths in unison. I jump behind the tree expecting them to shoot some poisonous toxin or tiny arrows.

"Dahlia?...Dahlia?" I look around confused.

'Mom?' Her voice is unmistakable. 'She found me!' is my first thought as I run around my enclosed area looking for her. The bird's eyes follow, and I realize my name is coming from them. My name quickly turns into a scream and I'm left confused and horrified. I've heard that pained and tortured scream before; on those nights when she has night terrors. The screams, amplified twenty times by the chorus of birds, paralyze me.

"Its probably not real." I tell myself as I cover my ears. But my mind won't let me believe that. The scream deepens and suddenly it's my father's screams bombarding me. Its clear that he's being tortured and the thought drives me to my knees.

"My parents are being tortured. They're probably dying and there is nothing I can do about it."

When the screams turn into that of my little brother, I start to cry. I forget sometimes how young he is, but now that his childlike scream pierces my ear, I am all too aware of his short life. I crumble into a ball no longer able to do anything but lie there and listen to my loved ones die. I don't know how long I lay there; hours? Days? I only know that I had finally gone mad when I felt gentle arms around me and a familiar voice telling me it's okay.

"It's okay sweetheart…it's not real…open your eyes."

I shake my head frantically, afraid that it is another trick of the game. I imagine the arms encircling me are attached to the head of a jabberjay. As soon as I open my eyes its mouth will open and I'll hear her scream again…I'll hear her die again.

Dahlia please…"The voice pleads. There's a warm breath near my ear and I immediately brace myself for what's next.

"Deep in the meadow

Under the willow…"

The voice sings to me. Its my lullaby…it's my mom. I begin to relax as I listen. Each word that much sweeter because I never thought I would hear it again.

"…and here your dreams are safe,

And tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you."

I finally open my eyes to see a pair of grey eyes staring back at me. My mom begins to tear up but quickly tries to wipe them away. I hug her back, not allowing her to move her arms, afraid that if she does she will disappear.

"Mom…mommy." I finally eek out. I cling to her as she rocks me back and forth, whispering reassurances in my ear.

"It's okay. I'm here…Mommy is here." She answers, her voice full of emotion.

I hear a small clearing of the throat behind us and remember that Asher is there. We both break out of our little bubble to stand up and recompose ourselves. My mother jumps up quickly and begins to rattle off our new course of action. It takes me a bit longer to stand and I feel a bit unsteady when I do. I take a quick look under my bandage and realize its soaked through in blood. Not wanting to be the weakest one in the group, I ignore it and start walking.

We walk the forest as my mother examines thin air. When Asher falls back to walk with me, I ask him what she is looking for.

"She's looking for a weak spot in the force field. We have one high voltage arrow. If we shoot it into the weak spot, we'll be free." I look back at him with doubt.

"Even if that works, we don't know where we are. We could break the force field and be surrounded by toxic gas." He just shrugs and keeps walking. When my mother turns to examine a particular piece of air closely, Asher gives me a quick hug. I look up at him confused.

"I was really scared back there. I couldn't hear anything and you had stopped moving for a bit. I thought you were…you know." He confesses.

Then he lifts up my chin and kisses me, but this time we are interrupted by my mother.

"If you two are finished. I think I've found something." We blush and step away from each other. She explains everything but my mind is still on the kiss. Even though our lips met briefly, it was enough to send my heart into overdrive. Her taking my bow out of my hands brings me back to the present. She toys with it for a little then hands it back. As soon as I take it, the bow begins to hum, like it just turned on.

"Looks like you two will do the shooting today." She says matter of factly.

"The bows are yours now. They were yours the minute you touched them and no one else can use them." The look of horror must be plain on my face, because she turns to assure me. "Relax Dahlia. You do well with a bow and arrow."

"When I was six!" I answer back shocked at her calm demeanor. We argue back and forth until I think I hear my name. When I keep stopping to look around, my mother finally asks.

"What is it?" I shake it off.

"Nothing. Maybe I'm still feeling the effects of the jabberjays or something because I keep hearing my name." She stops to listen closely, then pushes me and Asher ahead of her.

"Run!" We start running not knowing why or where we are going. When I look closely, we are headed back to the cornucopia.

"There's quicksand up ahead! I yell. We veer around to the back where we used a long plank of wood to leave the huge dome. Mom pushes us up on top of the dome before climbing up with the wooden plank. She positions us on either side while she breaks down the board and makes a fire.

I try to keep my eyes on the forest, but I get distracted, watching my mom. I have never seen her in action or realized she was so resourceful. When I look back I catch my first glimpse of what has been saying my name. The closer they get, the louder my name echoes through the forest. From where we are standing, they look like severely mutated wolves.

"I have 10 coming from my side." Asher yells.

"Me too." I confirm. My mother looks to each side.

"In about 100 yards I want you to start shooting. Aim for their eyes; the rest of their bodies are too tough." When I grasp what she wants us to do, I turn to her stunned.

"You want us to kill them?" I ask incredulous.

"Yes Dahlia!" She snaps back at me. "These aren't like the animals you keep in your room. These WILL kill us. Do you understand?" I nod back and slowly move into position. Mom lights two arrows from the fire and hands them to us. Asher makes quick use of his and is asking for more before I even position myself. Despite my mother's warning, I can't bring myself to do it. I can't kill them.

"Now Dahlia! They're getting closer." I quickly send off my first arrow, but since I am trying not to look at the pack, it misses. A sense of uneasiness comes over me as they get closer. Another arrow flies by me and hits the closest mutant wolf. I realize that Asher is now trying to cover both sides. My mother hands me another arrow.

"Concentrate this time." She commands. This time I try. I hear the frantic fight behind me and know that if I don't do something, we're going to get attacked. I take aim again, looking at the closest wolf. I look into his creepy black eyes and think of Mr. Tittle. Are they like him? sometimes human, sometimes not? I chicken out and again Asher takes the wolf down.

"I can't hold them all off." Asher yells. When my mother pulls out a small knife from her shoe and starts to move off the dome I finally relent.

"No mom! I can do this."

She stows her knife and hands me a lit arrow. When I notice they are moving in a line I have an idea. I take aim and hit a large branch another arrow makes the lit tree branch fall completely blocking their path. When I am done I move over to Asher's side and do the same thing. Now there is a fiery wall between us that will keep them until we get out. My relief is short lived when I see them start to jump through the fire. They have no regard for their own lives as they catch on fire and land in the quick sand. Sickened by the sight, I watch as the remaining mutant wolves meet their end with a combination of fire and quicksand. My mother grabs and hugs me.

"You did it! You saved us." I nod back numbly, feeling anything but excited.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Sliding down off the cornucopia gives me a closer view of the carnage I created. The smell of burning flesh stings my nose. I glance at the few wolves still fighting to get out of the quicksand. Asher and my mother are elated. The thought that they are never getting out of there makes me nauseous.

Not wasting any time, Mom begins looking for another weak spot. When she fails to find any around the dome she looks inside. She steps in then quickly backs out.

"I thought you said this was a weapons room."

"It is." Asher replies. We walk over to where she is standing and are confused to see a mineshaft tunnel in front of us.

"But how…" I begin.

"It's the sick game he's playing…putting their deaths all into one game and making me watch. Son of a…" She takes a deep breath to keep from cursing and marches in, while Asher and I stare at each other, confused.

My mother was a huge opponent of reopening the coalmines, but when she lost the fight and they opened anyway she forbid us to go there. It was one of her rules that I actually listened to. I had never seen the vast, dark and endless mine shaft tunnels. There was something unsettling about them. Mom made a makeshift torch before leading us into the tunnel. Asher looks around before asking.

"Is that a canary?"

"Yes." My mother replies without explanation. We continue to walk through the never-ending tunnels until she pauses to inspect a piece of the wall. Suddenly, we hear a distant boom and the tunnel begins to shake. As the dust from the blast settles, mom grabs the electric arrow and turns to Asher.

"Take the shot now."

He quickly positions himself and takes aim, but another blast moves him off balance and he drops the bow and arrow. Without thinking I grab the arrow and shoot at the designated spot. The after effect was anticlimactic; one quick spark, a puff of smoke and then nothing. I turn to mom and ask;

"Was that it?"

She nods but is clearly distracted. She inspects a few tunnels, before pointing down one.

"We go back the way we came and get out of here."

We follow her but realize too late the way is blocked. Another blast hits and the tunnel begins to crumble. Asher and I sprint back with my mother behind us. I hear her grunt, but before I can turn she pushes me forward.

"Keep going."

Asher suddenly turns and runs down a short tunnel. We follow and I see the elevator at the end. The two of us tumble in but we have to pull mom in when she hesitates. Something about this scares her. Asher closes the grate door and pulls the lever but as we start to move the canary stops singing.

"Cover your face and hold your breath." Mom commands.

We wrap our faces in whatever we have and hold our breaths while the elevator makes its rise into the dark. More blasts make the elevator unsteady and we try to brace ourselves before each impact.

At the first glimpse of light above us, mom signals Asher to lift me up. He quickly obeys and mom opens the door while Asher hoists me up. When my head reaches the floor, I take a much, needed gulp of air before pulling myself up. I help pull Asher up next, despite the pain in my arm. My mother quickly follows. The minute her feet touch the floor, a blast hard enough to shake the floor rises out of the shaft and blows the elevator towards us. We all jump out of the way but I'm a second too late. My foot gets pinned underneath a part of the elevator.

At my screams of pain both mom and Asher double back to help get me out. It takes a lot of effort on their part but eventually I wiggle my now broken foot out from under the wreckage. Our temporary struggle distracts us from the static and voice coming from mom's communicuff.

"…I said Commander to Mockingjay over…Damn it Katniss come in." Mom pulls out the cuff to answer.

"Yes, I'm here. We're here but Dahlia's injured. We need a medic." I try to protest but my protest ends up coming out in a pained groan. There's a little more static before Paylor replies.

"Copy that. We're on the way but need to narrow down your exact location. At that, Asher jumps up and volunteers to meet them. Mom quickly agrees and hands over her communicuff.

"Be back soon." He says as he squeezes my hand. He gives a brilliant smile before running out.

After Asher leaves, mom tries to tend to my foot but everything she does seems to hurt worse. Each time I cringe or moan she apologizes. I start to get the feeling she's apologizing for much more then my foot pain.

We hear footsteps and a familiar face emerges from the doorway. I smile at him, but he doesn't smile back. My mother gets into a defensive stance in front of me and glares at him.

"Katniss, Katniss, Katniss." He croons. "You never cease to amaze me. These are the antics that made you a perfect mockingjay." She gives a hollow laugh.

"Oh so my antics. That's why you chose me? He steps in closer and I catch a glimpse of his once gentle face, warped into a sinister smile. The closer he gets, the lower she crouches. Suddenly she springs forward, taking both of us by surprise.

"Plutarch, you traitor!" She yells as she knocks him over.

She tries to punch him, strangle him, but her fists just rebound off before contact. He eventually pushes her off of him and takes out a gun. He levels it at her before thinking better of it and points it at me.

"Tsk tsk. You should know that I came prepared." He lifts up his arms, showing off what I am guessing is a protective coat. . "Besides I just came to talk. I figure since you know who I am now anyway what harm could it do." Mom shakes her head a bit, still confused.

"I don't understand Plutarch. You helped launch the rebellion. Why…"

"Your job is not to understand." He snaps back, cutting her off. "You! None of you realize how powerful you are. What you are truly capable of doing. I have waited 30 years for just one of you to use the power you have to do something amazing. Yet you disappoint me every time. Well I'm not waiting anymore. I'm starting a new rebellion and I'm afraid this time, you are on the wrong side of it."

During his long speech, Plutarch did not notice my mother grabbing a metal piece of debris. She threw it at the wall, making a resounding crash. When he turns around startled she grabs his gun and shoots at his forehead. Unfortunately nothing happens. He gives her a wink and knocks on his head.

"A good improvement. Don't you think?" He turns and walks to the door, not concerned that he's turned his back on his enemy. "I guess our time for talk is over, but don't worry I wont leave you empty handed." He waves a hand outside the door. "This may keep your hands tied for a bit."

He disappears down the hall and we begin to hear several footsteps. Mom wastes no time helping me hide behind a huge piece of elevator debris. Instead of hiding with me, she gets up and moves to the door. I plead with her to come back and just hide but I know that is not who my mother is. She is a fighter, always has been. I just am not ready to lose her yet.

I try to obey her commands to stay down but hearing the first hit makes me take a quick peek. It's my mother against three rogue soldiers and she is doing well. Instead of going for the kill, she disarms the three guards before engaging them in hand-to-hand combat. It's clear this is not my mother's strong suit by a few wayward throws she makes. Despite the disadvantage, she successfully knocks one out before the other two move. A bad right hook, makes her easy to overtake and place into a chokehold. She fights, the soldier holding her while the other searches and successfully finds one of the tossed guns. When he points it at her, I decide to take action.

"Hey!" I yell, popping up from my hiding spot. The distraction works immediately, as both guards turn to face me. Mom uses the time to move out of the chokehold and toss the guard into the other guard with the gun. She runs towards me, picking up another discarded gun on the way. She uses her gun this time to take out, the guard who had her in a chokehold. The last standing soldier appeared shocked at the loss of his fellow soldier and temporarily lowered his gun. I was about to beg my mother not to shoot him, when he raises his gun again. Mom, now standing directly in front of me raises hers as well. There is a brief moment of silence before a gun finally goes off.

I hold my breath as I try to determine who shot who. Then the soldier slowly crumples to the ground revealing Paylor, with her still smoking gun. She quickly lowers it as she sees mom and me there. Mom breaks the silence first.

"Does anyone know you're hear?" She croaks. Miss Agusta just smirks and replies.

"Of course they do." They share a short laugh, but the look on Paylor's face turns to panic when my mother stops laughing and crumples to the ground. I stare in horror as I watch my mother go down, then see the blood pooling underneath her body. I start screaming for her, pleading with her, begging her to wake up. The only response was the echo of my own screams.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Time seemed to blur as the medic team rushed in to try and save my mom. When I couldn't stop shaking and screaming, medics took me out of the room and stuck me with a needle. My world soon went blurry and then to black.

A beeping noise was the first thing I heard to wake me from my drug induced slumber. The more awake I became, the more discomfort I felt. My wounded leg and arm felt like they were on fire and I moaned in pain.

"Its okay Dahlia. The nurse is going to give you something for the pain."

I turn toward the voice and smile as I see a brief glimpse of my dad before dipping back into unconsciousness.

When I wake up again, the pain is more manageable and I am now able to concentrate on my surroundings. I discover, I am in the hospital, hooked up to the same machines grams lets me check when I shadow her in the hospital. The room is small but private. Complete with a long couch and a huge open window. I take a deep breath and breath in the perfect smell of home. Suddenly I hear someone stir beside me and I turn to see my dad again. His face is pale and his wrinkles more pronounced then I remember, but his blue eyes still sparkle when he looks at me.

"Hey honey how are you feeling?" I look at him in amusement.

"Like I got hit by an arrow and an elevator fell on my foot." I croak.

We laugh a l little as the nurse comes in to check on me and gives me water, but my laughter dies down as my thoughts wander to my mom. I look up at him with curiosity.

"How's mommy?" I ask. It catches him off guard to hear me call her, mommy but he recovers quickly. He gives me a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, before replying.

"She's going to be fine." I eye him down suspiciously.

"There's something you're not telling me. Dad just say it." He shakes his head.

"Dahlia sweetheart, you just came out of a state of shock. Just get better and then…" I did not let him finish before I was unhooking myself from the machine and trying to get up. When the machines start beeping, a doctor, nurse and a militia swarm the room. Seriously! There were literally 12 armed PKs that ran into my room. I knew then, I wasn't leaving the room without permission. I gave an exasperated huff before hobbling back into bed. Not surprisingly, Aunt Joanna burst into the room minutes later. Her brown eyes dart to me, then to my father.

"Why did you let her get out of bed? Didn't the doctor say she needed to stay off her foot?" She admonished. My father, showing his annoyance, answers back curtly.

"You know I would not let her walk out of here."

"Then why was she out of bed?" She fired back.

"Because I want to see my mom. I want to know how she is." I say interrupting their argument. I direct the question to Aunt Joanna, knowing she will answer it no matter what. When I see her exchange a look with my father, I know the news is bad. My heart catches in my chest as she moves toward my bed.

"Dahlia…Katniss…your mom…she had a few setbacks early on and was touch and go for a while. She's in surgery now and…and we're waiting to hear from the surgeon. We don't really know how she's doing." I give a nod and close my eyes again. I pretend to fall asleep in order to avoid being dragged into dad and Aunt Joanna's argument. However, it doesn't drown them out. They are just as worried as me, but don't feel as guilty. I can't stop thinking that this whole thing is my fault. If I had just told the truth in the first place, she would not have had to run after me and save me. I think about all the fights my mother and I have had and the awful things I have said. I realize that I have never missed a chance to argue with her, but I never take the chance to say I love her. The thought makes me cry.

A warm hand touches my forehead, checking for a temperature.

"Does it hurt a lot honey?" My Dad must have noticed my tears. I shake my head no, but somehow dad knows there is more to my tears. He always seems to know.

"She's going to be alright Dahlia." He repeats again, but this time his voice is filled with worry. I try to keep it together until the surgeon comes in a few minutes later. He looks at the three of us before telling us she pulled through the surgery and is now stable. There is a collective exhale, and the mood in the room lightens.

When I find out she is recovering in a room two floors up, I demand to visit her. I am ignored at first but I keep complaining. The doctor finally caves in the next day before he discharges me. I get aunt Joanna to wheel me up to the room.

When we enter, I see dad leaning over the bed, whispering in mom's ear. Even though her eyes are closed, she is smiling. When dad spots us, he smiles and whispers to mom.

"Katniss, look who is here." My mother slowly opens her eyes, which takes a lot of effort. She gazes around the room before her eyes fall on me. I try not to start crying again as I'm rolled next to her bed. But when I grab her hand and she can only give me a weak squeeze back, I start to sob.

"Shhh sweetheart. I'm okay. I'm going to be fine." She rasps, just above a whisper. I nod but I can't stop crying. My dad jumps up and tries to wheel me out of the room, but I grab onto the bed rail to stop him. I look straight into my mother's eyes and pour out everything I've wanted to say.

"Mom I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." She tries to pat my hand to comfort me, but is too weak to lift it up.

"My baby…my Dahl baby…you…you didn't do anything…wrong." It takes a lot of effort for her to say it but she smiles and looks at dad. "Peeta, look at her. Isn't she blooming so nicely?" My dad nods beside me. He looks like he's fighting back tears too.

"I love you mom." I finally eek out. She looks at me with a smile.

"I love you too sweetheart…always." I gaze at her as I finally let go of the bed rail and let dad wheel me out of the room.

He wheels me to the cafeteria for a distraction and something to eat. I poke at the sandwich for a while before finally starting conversation.

"What did mom mean by me blooming well?" Dad gives a sad smile as he replies.

"She means you're growing well. It comes from your name." When I just shrug, he elaborates. "When the rebellion first ended and I came back, I planted your mother a garden. It included daisies, dahlias, katniss and of course primroses. We tended to it and watched the flowers grow. But when it was time for everything to bloom, the daisies and dahlias were the only two that did. We tried everything to get the other flowers to bloom, especially the primroses, but they never came out. In fact, they didn't start blooming until a few years later. A little later, when you came along and we were thinking about names, I suggested Primrose. You would be named after your aunt. Your mom was the one who said no and reminded me of the garden. Her reasoning was that if not all flowers bloom, our daughter, would bloom no matter what; like the dahlia. So we named you Dahlia."

I thought about dad's story all day and that night. I lay in my bed, realizing the last time I slept here, I prayed my mother wouldn't smother me during the trip. Now I prayed that she were near me now.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

I got my wish a few days later. I thought it was a bit early to release her from the hospital, but it turns out the extra security both Paylor and Aunt Joanna put in place, were an inconvenience to the hospital staff and other patients. So dad turned the study into a pseudo hospital room and the security team moved to our house.

We had planned a little party for her arrival and she seems genuinely happy and surprised to see everyone. The first hug goes to Jon who was too young to visit her in the hospital. Uncle Haymitch, who stayed with Jon, even tears up when he sees mom. She lets out a squeal of delight when she sees Finnick.

"Finnie!" She repeats, as she hugs him.

Ms. Annie is there, but seems a little more reserved then usual. Miss Agusta is there to welcome mom home, but has to return to the capitol soon after. Mom gives big hugs to Aunt Joanna and I, but saves a kiss for dad. It reminds me of Asher, who is finally coming back from the trip today. As much as I am excited to see mom, I am also excited to see Asher.

Mom falls into giving orders as she settles into being home. We all promptly answer to her beck and call but, not without comment.

"You were so much nicer a few days ago when you were in the hospital all sad and weak." Aunt Joanna notes. She addresses the group. "She was even telling me what a wonderful friend I was and how grateful she was for me." Uncle Haymitch snickers while mom just raises her eyebrows.

"Did I say that?" Aunt Joanna nods. Mom shrugs and starts wheeling herself toward the kitchen before adding. "Probably the morphling talking."

At that we all laugh. The mood becomes increasingly lighter with jokes and laughter. The Katniss/Joanna comedy duo got another laugh when mom mentioned her recovery from the last time she was shot was much, much faster. Aunt Joanna replied that she was also much, much younger then too. Sadly Aunt Joanna had to step out for a phone call after that. She returns right before we sit down to dinner, slightly distracted. Apparently I am not the only one who notices, since mom asks her almost immediately what's wrong.

"Remember that situation you wanted me to take care of?" Mom nods and subtly looks over at me. I keep my head down, pretending I'm not listening. "Unfortunately no need to worry. We confirmed some remains."

"Oh no." Mom says shocked. "Have they told the family yet?" Aunt Joanna nods.

"They are telling them now."

They let the subject drop and I go on with loading up my plate with food, but I keep wondering what mom needed Aunt Joanna to take care of. A situation? A person perhaps? I mauled it over until I heard a commotion coming from the front of the house. Aunt Joanna and Uncle Haymitch jump up from the table on high alert, grabbing the sharpest knives at the table. Finnick stands in front of Ms Annie and dad stands in front of mom, Jon and me. We are prepared for a throw down, we are not prepared for Mr. Hawthorne to come storming in.

"Gale?" My dad steps towards him confused. Mr. Hawthorne promptly decks him in the face. He quickly turns his rage to mom and points an accusatory finger at her.

"Are you happy? Are you happy now Katniss?" The guards came in after him looking unsure of what to do. Mr. Hawthorne is a threat, but he is also a retired general. Mom signals for them to stand down while, Mr. Hawthorne continues his tirade.

"Do you think we're even now huh? My son for your precious Prim. Is that what you wanted…revenge?" When my mother begins to apologize for his loss, I start to panic. There is no way. No way he is saying what I think he's saying. I run out of the house and three houses down to the Hawthorne's. I knock on the door not knowing what to say. When Mrs. Hawthorne opens the door and sees me, her look says it all.

"You!" She steps out of the house and pushes me. "You Mallerks are the reason my son is dead! How dare you come here!" I hear the anguish in her voice as she berates me. She pushes a thin manicured finger into my chest. "You killed him!" She screams before breaking down into sobs. Unsure of what to do, I am about to try and comfort her when a deep, tired voice comes from behind me.

"Go home Dahlia." Mr. Hawthorne says, quiet but commanding. I look into the house one more time before leaving. I see Elle, my best friend, glaring at me with the same hateful look as her parents. I turn away and trudge home. When no one bothers me about running off or skipping dinner, I assume they have all been informed why. I lay on top of my bed until I hear everyone leaving. Then I change, crawl under the covers and continue to stare at the ceiling. I'm not sure when I fall asleep, but I know when I wake up. My dad shakes me awake. I look around to see my mother has also made it to my room and is now sitting at the bottom of my bed. My brother stands in the doorway. Dad wipes away some of the tears from my face makes and I realize I have been crying. But I don't think my whole family flocked in here because I was crying.

"I'm sorry." I finally say. "I didn't know I fell asleep." My mom pats my leg in comfort.

"It was just a nightmare sweetheart." She says. I just shake my head, letting the tears stream down anew.

"No it's not…he said he would be back soon…he's gone and it's my fault." I cry as my dad holds me. They encourage me to go back to sleep, but I can't. I have seen my parents struggle too long with their own terrors to know that the nightmares won't stop if I go back to sleep. I know the nightmares are just beginning…

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone that has read, favorited and reviewed this story! **Please** give reviews and let me know if you loved it, hated it or thought it was just…okay. Whatever you thought review! To keep you guessing, I have added the prologue of the second part of the fan-fic. Hope you enjoy it.

Also, I do not own the rights to Hunger Games or any of the characters. They of course belong to Suzanne Collins.


	23. Prologue

Prologue

I wake up with a gasp, realizing that it was only a nightmare. I feel Katniss stir next to me.

"Peeta" she mumbles. During the night, she had curled herself into me and now I feel her breath on my chest. I stroke her hair lightly.

"Go back to sleep Darling." She says my name again and her lips turn up into a smile. That's when I realize, she's dreaming about me. I laugh to myself, knowing she would never believe this if I told her. I squeeze her a little closer comforted that nightmares have escaped one of us tonight.

It's been the same nightmare since the incident in the capitol. I come home one night to find the house completely destroyed and my family gone. The heart wrenching pain I felt thirty years ago returns as I search through the rubble for my family. My past seems to haunt me with each discovery. I sometimes find my brothers, my parents or my grandfather the same way I found them after the destruction of district 12 during the rebellion. I always try to will myself to wake up at this point, but my mind refuses to let me escape my greatest fear. I continue to search till I find them; Katniss, Dahlia and Jon's lifeless bodies in front of me. The realization that I have failed to protect my family again overwhelms me and I crumple to the floor in grief. Right before my head hits the floor, I'm jolted back to reality.

"That wasn't real Peeta, this is." Shaking off my nightly reminder of what is and isn't real, I hold tight to Katniss. I vowed to be there for her and protect her and our children. A vow I planned to keep. Dipping my head down, I whisper in her ear.

"Always." She shifts slightly and her eyes flutter open to meet mine. I look into those familiar grey eyes and smile. She smiles back and begins to move in for a kiss when the communicator rings and interrupts our moment. I pick it up somewhat annoyed.

"Mallerk residence" I mumble into it. The familiar clicking of a secure line hit my ear followed by the pleasant voice of a female operator.

"Voice recognition confirmed. Hello Mr. Mallerk. General Mason requests to speak with you." He replies immediately.

"Please let her know I will be ready in 5 minutes." The operator types something in, before responding.

"Yes sir. We will call you back in 5 minutes." I click off the communicator and look at my wife who is anxiously awaiting an answer to who could have called us in the middle of the night.

"Its just Joanna. She probably wants to give us an update. I just wish she'd figure out the time difference." It wasn't the first time we had been awoken by a high security call from Joanna or Paylor. As mayor I had called both women at strange times too, so I understood the accidental late night calls. Katniss however, would often hang up and wait for them to call later. I move to get out of the bed, but Katniss wraps her arms around me.

"Don't go. They'll call back later." She kisses my neck then my collarbone, melting my resolve a little.

"I won't take long," I finally manage to say. I gently unwrap her arms and get out of bed. She props herself up on her elbow as I get dressed. When I turn to face her, she's staring at me with the look I've seen so many times before. Being together so long, I can read her expressions and subtle looks. I answer it with a kiss and a reply.

"I love you too."

What a difference 10 minutes makes, I think to myself as I hang up the communicator. 10 minutes ago, I was in bed with my wife, professing my love. Not knowing that she was keeping a huge secret from me. Joanna rattled it out, realizing too late that I should not have known. But it was out and soon everyone would know too. A group of captured soldiers had been returned to headquarters. One of which was Asher Hawthorne, who until 2:00 this morning had been assumed dead. I then asked the question that started it all.

"When are they coming home?" There was silence at first and then Joanna said. "Katniss and I have decided its best for Mr. Hawthorne not to return home." At that I almost lost it. I never yell or raise my voice but this statement had me outraged. Who were they to separate a child from his family. Joanna let me rattle off a little longer before responding.

"They have been hijacked." The word snaps me back to the present and I stay quiet through the rest of the brief. When she finishes I hear her tentatively call my name. Without responding I click off.

I stare at the family picture, now questioning if it is even real. Katniss did not want Asher to come back because she thought it would be to hard on Dahlia. Why; because my coming back was too hard on her. I ask the question out loud;

"Real or not real, Katniss wanted you to come back."

I fail to find the answer. Anger starts to build and I fight to keep control. I try to rationalize to myself the glint off the metal objects is not possible without sun or that I am sitting upright not at a tilt, but it doesn't stop it from happening. I glance at the picture again and see the mutant dog hovering over my children, I throw the picture at a lamp and watch them both shatter before I regain control.

The crash was loud enough to be heard throughout the house. I walk over and lock the door, giving myself time to calm down, before either Katniss or the children come to investigate. Pressing my hand into the corner of the desk, I try forcing the pain to over ride the surging rage. A part of me knew it wouldn't be enough. It wasn't because of what Katnis called "Not her Peeta" had taken over. But because the real Peeta was just as angry at her. It was pure torture that the one person I needed to sort this out was also the person I hated more then anything in the world.

The movement of the door handle alerted me to someone's presence. "Peeta! Peeta are you alright?" Katniss was clearly worried as she began to bang on the door.

"Go away." I growled at her, but the change in my voice clued her in to what was going on and she started to throw her wait into the door.

It only took 3 hits before the lock gave way and the door swung open. I had tried to place myself behind the desk as a barrier, but Katniss was not concerned with the danger of getting close to me.

"Don't come any closer." I yelled harshly, stopping her in her tracks. She looked at me with pity, which infuriated me more. I stabbed my hand into the desk corner until it started to bleed.

"Real or not real Peeta! Katniss Everdeen is your wife." She yelled suddenly. The words had worked and I became alert enough to reply.

"Real." She continued and took a step forward.

"We have two beautiful children; Dahlia and Jonathan."

"Real." My voice began to return to its normal tone and I felt my emotions start to level. She was only a few feet away when she asked the next question.

"You love me real or not real?" I pause for a long time while I think about it. I without a doubt love Katniss. I think back to the several times I've said it over the years. What stops me from answering is the few times I remember her saying it to me.

"Peeta?" She says uncertain. I look back at her with clear confusion on my face.

"You never say it to me. Do you really love me?" The pain my words inflict is clear on her face as she responds.

"Of course I love you. Always." Throwing caution to the wind, she rounds the desk and hugs me. I am unable to hug her back however, not until she can answer the question that's been on my mind.

"Katniss, Asher Hawthorne was found alive this morning. Joanna let slip, your plans for him if he had been taken...like me." Her head whips up in surprise. "Real or not real; you wanted me back after I was hijacked." She pauses before responding as if she didn't know what to say. Big mistake.

"DADDY!" I crash back to reality to see Dahlia screaming at me while she holds her brother back. When I look down, Katniss is pinned under me, now gasping for breath. Red marks and blood encircle her neck and I instinctively reach for her. She flinches away before she can stop herself. I quickly get up and back myself behind my desk. I follow the bloodstains and am relieved to find that it's only my blood. I look back up to see my wife trying to push the children out, but they are clearly afraid to leave her alone with me.

"My children are afraid of me." I mumble. There is a sinking feeling when I realize the family that I wanted so much, that I want to protect is most in danger of me. When Katniss finally pushes the kids into the hallway, I run out the office and head for the door. In the time it takes me to put on my shoes, Katniss has caught up to me. Without turning around I talk to her.

"I would have wanted you no matter what."

"I know." She responds a little teary. My heart breaks as I realize that even after 30 years, she never loved me as much as I loved her.

"Stay with me." I hear the need behind her request but this time I can't be there for her. I finally turn to look at her and see the tears running down her face. I keep my distance as I tell her what took me so long to figure out.

"I guess you were right Katniss. It was a mistake for us to have children. To ever think we could be a family."

"No Peeta!" She rushes towards me but I rush out the door. I run out of Victor's village without any idea of when I will return.

...

Hello dedicated readers! Check out part II of the series entitled "Plucked too Soon" coming...well soon!


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